


Zinfandel Sunsets

by bluetoast



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Awkward Flirting, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, California, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Flirting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, JUST KISS ALREADY, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Not Related, Leia Organa Ships It, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Snarky Ben, Vineyard, Wine, jyn and cassian are rey's parents, snarky Leia, snarky rey, trying to be professional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: Rey Andor thought it was a joke when she was given the assignment for Food & Wine, travel to California and run a cover story for Skywalker Vineyard's upcoming anniversary. Just two years out of journalism school, deep down, she knows that this isn't just luck; her employer Hux wants to find out if she's as good as she's let on.Ben Solo's still trying to put the pieces back together after the death of his father and uncle in a car accident almost a year ago. Days are filled with work; work he can understand. Having to entertain a guest and put up a good front aren't exactly on his mind right now.





	1. Prologue

Rey had almost been too excited to sleep. When she'd first been given the assignment from _Food & Wine_ to interview the current owner of Skywalker Vineyard for their upcoming sesquicentennial, she'd thought her boss Hux was joking. Two-years out of college magazine writers did not get handed these kinds of stories, not one that are slated to be cover stories. If someone told her she was going to appear on the cover of the September issue of _Vogue_ in the latest Michael Kors, she'd have believed that first. But no, it was no joke; she was boarding a plane this morning at JFK, bound for San Francisco, one week in California to interview the owner, take some photographs, and then return to New York and finish up the story before this month was out.

She sat up in bed and stretched, turning her alarm off before it had a chance to ring, waking anyone else. The narrow gap between the bed and the wall was just wide enough for her to walk through, her bedside table had been a bar stool in its former life. Ducking around her dresser that was flush with the foot of the bed, she opened the door and paused; she could hear Finn's heavy snores from where he was sleeping in the next room, but the light in the bathroom was on; Poe was already awake. “How does he do that?” She shook her head and crossed into the main room, silently thankful that, being up second, meant that Poe had made the coffee. The three of them had strange schedules; her schedule was erratic, depending on the publishing deadline, Poe's job as a sous-chef at a steakhouse meant they hardly ever saw him, but he did bring home some incredible leftovers, and Finn usually worked from two in the afternoon to two at night, running tech crew for _The Phantom of the Opera._ As he often put it, they were three young people with fascinating jobs they had no time to talk about. 

Hence the reason the three of them were sharing an apartment with a low rent that served as little more than a place where they slept and took a shower. 

Rey yawned again before pouring herself some coffee, hearing the shower turn off. She smiled absently to herself, remembering that going to California meant that she'd get to see her parents, if only for one day. She hadn't seen them in months; not since Christmas, and at times, it seemed longer. She took a drink from her mug just as Poe stumbled into the kitchen. “Morning. You're up early.”

“My week to go down to the docks for the seafood.” He gave her a half grin. “And you're off to the other coast today.” He refilled his own mug. “You sure you're going to be okay on a flight that long, Peanut?”

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Poe, you're worse than my dad. If he could, he'd have commuted overnight just so he could fly the plane I'm boarding back.” Her father Cassian had been a pilot for Frontier Airlines for years, and he'd only recently retired, at the insistence of her mother – whom Rey was fairly certain her father had never won an argument with, except for one: convincing architect Jyn Erso to marry him. “I'm surprised you let anyone else cook in this house.” 

He smirked over his mug at her. “And your cooking is never much more complicated than opening the can and heating it up.” 

She gave him the best annoyed look she could with as little coffee as she had. “Not all of us were blessed with grandmothers who were amazing cooks. Not to mention our kitchen has zero counter space. I think the fanciest we can get is Hamburger Helper.” 

Poe sucked in a breath and sank back against the fridge. “Such blasphemy!” 

Rey took a drink from her mug. “My mom made some pretty amazing stuff from a box. I knew how to make it myself by the time I was eight.” She lowered the cup. “Seriously, though, we have no prep space, two of the four burners on the stove barely get warm and a microwave. We have an oven, but it's not like we can prepare much to put in it. It's a miracle that we can have good coffee.” 

“You have a point.” He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “I best get going, what time is the shuttle picking you up?” 

“Six.” she took another drink. “You two have fun while I'm gone.” She smirked. “Though please be considerate of the neighbors.” 

He made a face. “You're terrible.” He walked out, heading for the room he and Finn shared. 

Rey sighed and leaned back against the wall, willing herself to wake up more before she got into the shower. Maybe she'd be lucky enough to get some rest on her nearly seven hour flight across the country.

*

“You need to get some sleep.” A voice said from the doorway and Ben inwardly groaned as he set the electric kettle back down. He knew he needed to get some sleep, but it seemed lately that no sooner did he lay down than something demanded his attention. A year ago, his father might have laughed at the situation and remarked it was good practice for when he had kids. Right now, he wished his father was still here to make that joke. He turned towards the voice and gave the speaker the most reproachful look he could muster at quarter to one in the morning.

“I distinctly remember telling you to go home several hours ago.” He looked away, covering a yawn. “I hate to think of you navigating those roads in the dark.”

Rose Malbus groaned, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Ben, I'm not seventeen years old anymore.” She came into the kitchen, sitting down heavily on one of the stools. “Are you ever going to stop treating me like a little kid?”

He snickered as he took out a second cup and poured hot water into both of them. “Uh, given the fact that I've known you since the day your dads came back from the other side of the world to get you, I'd say the odds of me doing that are negative infinity.” He set one mug in front of her and sat down opposite. “You didn't need to stay. Besides, your boyfriend might start to have issues.” 

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “He's a big boy, he can handle it.” 

Ben smiled down into his cup as he played with the teabag. “I'm doing better.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Well, as good as I can.” He smirked. “I know my mom's making progress. Although I think she still has issues with your dad's driving.” 

She moved her own teabag around a few times. “Well, if she starts sassing either of them, then we'll know she's getting back to her old self.” She looked over at him. “How are you doing? Be honest.” 

He wrapped his hands around the mug, not looking at his friend and co-worker. “I'm okay. Not bad, not good – just. Just okay.” He swallowed. “I think okay is starting to be the new normal.” 

Rose finished making her tea and gave him a half smile. “Your mother says you work too hard.” She lifted the cup. “Like I didn't know already or if I somehow thought I could convince you to slow down.” She took a drink.

Ben grinned as he took the bag out of his mug. “We all work too hard. You, me – everyone else on the staff. Although I think Maz might work the hardest.” 

She rolled her eyes in response. “I don't think that woman knows how to do anything but work. Although, we all eat well.” 

“That we do.” He took a sip. “You want to crash in your usual room or you want the couch?” He'd started offering her a place to stay when she worked late; it wasn't that he didn't trust Rose's driving, he didn't trust anyone else's. “Since I know you keep a spare of everything in it.” He took a breath in an effort to calm himself. Eight months ago, his parents and uncle had all been in a head-on collusion on the highway down towards Timber Cove. Only his mother and two passengers in the rear of the other car survived the accident. “Sure you don't want to move into the guest house?”

“No. Speaking of, you do remember that you have a guest coming later today?” She arched an eyebrow at him as she took a sip of tea.

Ben thought for a moment then grimaced. “Ah shit, someone from Food and Wine, right?” The interview had been scheduled months ago, but it, like so many things, had fallen through the cracks of things on his to-do list. “Did it get cleaned?”

“Yes, Maz remembered.” Rose took another drink of tea. “Could you please remember to wear something without stains on it for the next week?” 

He gave her a look. “I'm not afraid of the world seeing me with dirt on my pants and grape stains on my shirts. It looks unnatural, like chefs with clean aprons.” He took a drink from his mug.

“Well, you'll probably have to pose for a few pictures. Wear something clean for those. As for candid ones, I don't think it matters.” She set her mug down, rubbing her temples. “What are you going to say if someone asks something as asinine as why is it called Skywalker Vineyard and your last name is Solo?”

“My mom's a Skywalker, piss off.” He grinned. “Or we can have them ask her, and see where that gets them.” He stood and picked up both of their teabags, dropping them in the composting bag. “You get some sleep, I'm going get some sleep – busy day ahead of us.” He took up his mug. “Night Rose.” 

“Night Ben.” She called after him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey arrives in California, and it's just another Tuesday afternoon at the vineyard.

The sound of the fasten seat-belt sign woke Rey. She blinked a few times, not certain how long she had been asleep. She covered a yawn, straightening up and glanced out the window; the cloud cover that had been there for hours was gone, leaving only green augmented with yellow. She leaned forward, taking her work folder from the seat-pocket and drew out her backpack with her foot. It'd been a decent flight; at least, the part she had been awake for. Her stomach rumbled slightly and she flinched as she stuffed the folder into her bag. She'd eat once she got out of the city. Food cost too much in the airport and she didn't know her way around San Francisco well enough to stop. She wasn't certain where it would be, but the first exit outside of the city with an In-N-Out Burger, she was going. She wasn't going to come all the way to California and _not_ go there. 

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking.” The woman's voice sounded insanely chipper. “The captain has turned on the fasten seat-belt sign. At this time, we ask you to please discontinue the use of any electronic devices, put away any items you may have gotten out during the flight and return your seats and tray tables to their upright and locked positions. It's currently one thirty in the Bay Area, the temperature a pleasant seventy-seven degrees and sunny. We should have you on the ground in about twenty minutes.” 

“I want the coffee she has.” Rey mumbled as she zipped up her backpack and pushed it back under the seat in front of her with her foot. She covered a yawn and took off her watch to adjust the time. Thankfully, she was arriving before rush hour; being stuck on the freeway when it was bumper to bumper was a reoccurring nightmare for her; as much as she knew the likelihood of it happening were slim to none, she was positive that sometime, she'd be trapped on the highway when the 'big one' finally hit. On the list of places she didn't want to be in an earthquake that measured over five on the Richter scale, anywhere in a car was near the top. As she put her watch back on, she heard the spoilers start to be deployed and she closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing.

Dad always said it was amusing that both she and her mother hated flying when that's what he did for a living. 

The fasten seat-belt light dinged again and somewhere behind her, Rey heard a baby start crying just as she felt her ears pop; poor thing had no idea what was going on. She opened her eyes as the flight attendant passed the row, holding a trash bag. She shook her head at the woman, and then turned her attention back out the window, the gold and green had given way to urban life. The only thing that seemed odd about her whole trip out here was the fact that she would be staying at the guest house on the vineyard; she didn't even know that was still a _thing_ in some places. It was kind of odd, to be considered a guest when she was working; but given that it was probably cleaner than the standard hotel room, she was all for it. 

The folder she'd been given hadn't told her much; only that the vineyard had recently been inherited by the only son of the family, a man named Ben Solo, who ran the place with a woman named Rose Malbus. He was thirty-six, his partner was twenty-four; Rey's age. The Skywalkers had come to northern California shortly before the end of the Civil War and the first bottle of wine had been sold in Eighteen sixty-seven. She could remember seeing the labels on the wine bottles when she would go to the store with her grandfather Galen Erso. Four shooting stars and embossed green print on ecru colored paper; the tail of the 'ys' in _Skywalker Vineyards_ sweeping around the words in a representation of the wind. 

That was the 'new' label; new meaning it had been designed in nineteen seventy-seven by the great-great granddaughter of the founder, Leia Skywalker, when she was a senior in high school.

“Flight attendants, please take your seats for landing.” The first officer's voice was just audible over the roar of the engines and there was a groaning of mechanics as the landing gear was deployed. Rey almost wished she'd asked her parents if they could pick her up from the airport, but that would be like asking for a full-on grilling of her current life and it'd be a miracle if she ever got out of the house to do her work. She was still fairly young, and she wasn't ready to get married, start a family or any of that yet. She could understand if she was ten years older, but honestly - 

At least they didn't object to her living with Poe and Finn. She suspected they would rather she live with the two of them than alone. 

She double checked her seat-belt and folded her hands in her lap, keeping herself calm as the plane descended and the noise from the engines grew louder. She glanced at the man whom she'd been sitting next to for the entire time and hadn't spoken to more than twice – when she'd needed to use the lavatory. From what she could tell, he'd worked his way through the entirely of _A Feast for Crows_ , and she figured it was about the same length of time you'd need to watch one season of _Game of Thrones._ Just like her plan was that if she ever went on a fifteen hour flight, she was borrowing Finn's portable DVD player and watching all three extended cuts of the _Lord of the Rings_ on the way there. Of course, on a flight that long, there was bound to be free entertainment. 

Rey turned to look out the window and swallowed hard; they were making an approach from the bay side, rather than over land. She squeezed her eyes shut as the engine noise increased and didn't let go of her breath until there was a rumble and slight shake as the plane touched down. She leaned back, the tension seeping out as the plane raced down the runway. 

“Welcome to San Francisco, ladies and gentlemen. We ask that you please remain seated until we are at the terminal. You may now use your electronic devices...” the rest of the flight attendant's words went unnoticed by Rey, she knew the spiel by heart and she didn't need to worry about baggage claim, as she had only her carry-on with her. She grabbed her bag and pulled out her phone, and she turned it on; six messages, and all but two of them were from her boss. “Oh crud.” She muttered and worried at her bottom lip as she listened to them.

_Andor! It's Hux, calling to remind you to keep track of all your expenses, that includes fuel for the rental car._

Rey rolled her eyes. She had a damn checklist of things she needed to keep track of.

_Hi sweetheart, it's Dad. Mom's expecting you for Sunday dinner – one o'clock kiddo._

“It's only Tuesday.” She mumbled as the next message played.

_Andor, please be careful with the camera. Mitaka took one to Paris and it ended up destroyed in a fountain. Don't drop it into the ocean, or let a horse step on it, or any other ghastly thing. Lot riding on this story, Andor._

“I know that.” She frowned as the plane turned and she could see the terminal. She wanted out of this damn thing.

_Peanut, it's Finn. Sorry I wasn't awake to tell you bon voyage! Have fun out there, if you can. Bring back some sunshine if you can!_

“We have sunshine in New York.” She shook her head and braced herself for the next to messages from her boss.

_Andor, Hux again. Please remember you're in California to work, not on vacation._

“Just being out of the office from you is a vacation.” She grumbled. Honestly, the miracle wasn't that she had the job she did, but that she hadn't quit from her boss's attitude. 

_Andor, check your email ASAP. We've gotten the names of the contestants for the next season of Top Chef. Three of them are on the West Coast. I need you to do some phone interviews with them while you're out there._

“Yes, sir.” She sighed and turned off her phone, dropping it back into her bag. The seat-belt light pinged off and all around her, people started moving. She shot a smile at the man sitting next to her. “Work.” 

He gave her a half smile as he shoved his book into his bag. “Same.” He stood and opened the overhead bin. 

Rey pulled her bag up and undid her belt just as the man took up his own carry-on and pulled another out of the overhead and joined the queue leaving the plane. She slid out and grabbed her own silver suitcase down and pulled out the handle to wheel it behind her. She shouldered her backpack and followed the rest of the passengers out of the plane and into the terminal. 

*

Ben leaned against the threshold of the garage, watching as the distributor truck vanished down the road. The last of the twenty fourteen reserve and a good majority of the twenty fifteen were out of the aging racks and on their way to market. He rubbed his eyes, covering a yawn. He straightened up as a familiar looking SUV drove into sight and he checked his watch. “Is it that late already?” He stepped forward just as the car stopped and the driver got out, and a moment later, the passenger and a golden lab joined him. “I forgot you two were coming.” 

“Three, young man.” The second man stated, smiling. “You can't forget Daphne.” He adjusted his hold on the harness in his right hand. “Is your mother on the porch?”

“She is, Chirrut.” He smiled. “Although I don't think Rose is still up there. I saw her heading back to the office about ten minutes ago.” 

The man smiled and set the bag down long enough to clamp Ben on the arm, blinking sightlessly at him. “Oh, she'll be around soon.” He picked up his bag and he and the dog started up the stairs, and Ben turned to the man still standing by the car, taking a breath before he started over. 

“Afternoon, Baze.” He tried to smile, but it was hard; around strangers and, on occasion, his mother, he could put up a good front; but around Baze, who had been good friends with both his dad and uncle, it was impossible. “Yes, Rose spent the night here last night. I know you don't want her driving after dark.” 

“Hm.” the man grunted and came over, giving him a one armed hug. “Rose says we all worry too much.”

“We have to, because she never does.” the two of them followed after Chirrut. “I actually managed to get some sleep last night. Of course, spending a day getting rid of gophers will exhaust you.” 

“True.” Baze let out a soft grunt as they reached the first landing. “Those pests all gone?”

“Yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck as they continued upwards. Out of sight, they could hear Daphne bark and a moment later, his mother's service dog, a German Shepard named Loki, let out a yip of greeting of his own. “Well, at least the dogs are happy to see each other.” He shook his head. “She never says it, but I know my mom really appreciates it when Chirrut comes over to visit.” 

The older man reached over and ruffled Ben's hair like he was still a child. “And you used to watch Rose all the time. Now it's you we have to watch.” 

“Don't tell her that, she'll never speak to me again if she found out I changed her diapers a few times.” He covered a snort. “Although we don't talk about that.” 

“Of course not.” Baze chuckled. “And if needs be, you're going to help us run that boyfriend of hers off.” 

“He's a relief pitcher for the Giants, I'd say that another baseball team has a better chance of causing the breakup than any of us.” Ben did his best to straighten his hair as they came to the top of the stairs. “And for the record, Alex is a vast improvement over that slew of guys she dated in high school.” 

“Don't I know it?” the man grinned at him, then covered his mouth as he coughed. “Damn allergies.” He shot a look over at Ben. “Don't go telling Chirrut that those stairs are getting longer. He'll think I'm getting old.” 

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Ben lifted his chin. “I'm starting to think there's an extra two or three on occasion myself.” He knew that the man next to him didn't like to be reminded that he was getting old anymore than anyone else around here did. Of course, when he was told the line, it was usually accompanied by the phrase that he needed to settle down and start a family. One, he was already quite settled, and he just needed people to stop setting him up on dates with women who were not his type. He was thirty four, unmarried, and flatly refused permission to be included in the most eligible bachelor's lists. The last thing he needed was someone who didn't understand that running a vineyard was actually _work_ and their only reference to the task was the remake of _The Parent Trap._

They came over to the porch where Chirrut was pulling out a book and setting it on the table in front of him, his smile wide enough to be seen from the far side of the property. “Good afternoon, Leia, you're looking quite lovely today.” 

His mother snorted in reply. “You've never seen me, you blind old bat!” 

“Ah, your wit is as sharp as ever, perhaps you want to skip our reading session today?” As always, Chirrut was unfazed by her remark. Ben had heard Rose rave time and time again about his inability to get riled. Which was why it had always been him, not Baze, who spoke with her teachers. 

“I never said that.” She shifted in her seat as Ben came over and kissed her cheek. “Shipment on its way?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He scanned the table, arching an eyebrow at the wine glass in front of his mother. With her current medication, Leia was forbidden from drinking any alcohol, and then realized that the off-white liquid within was too opaque to be anything other than grape juice. “Was that your idea or Maz's?”

Leia snickered as she reached forward to lift the glass up in a mock toast. “She asked if I wanted some juice, I said only if you bring it in a wine glass.” She took a sip before setting it back down. “Speaking of...”

“Ben Solo!” Maz's voice was sharp from the door. “The interviewer will be here in less than an hour and you're filthy! 

He walked towards the housekeeper, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I've been working, and it's not like they flew all this way just to be here for an afternoon.” He stopped in the doorway and smiled. “But fine, I'll go take a shower.” 

“And shave!” She barked after his retreating form. “You look like a ragamuffin!”

He didn't here Chirrut's reply, but judging from the laughter, it was probably best that he hadn't. Best to get all the teasing out now, before the interviewer arrived; you never knew with the journalist types. Some had no qualms about publishing things they shouldn't. He untied his shoes and left them on the bench by the stairs, making sure to tuck the laces inside before he went upstairs. He never quite understood the reasoning behind it, if they were up off the floor, no one was going to trip over them. 

The only thing they had been told by _Food & Wine_ was that the person they were sending was named Rey Andor, but that was about it. Rose kept track of that information, not him; as they often said, she did the paperwork and he did the legwork. He knew how the vines looked, she knew what bottles were headed out to market. They both kept track of which vats were ready, which still needed to wait, and when the next load of barrels were headed in. “Reminds me, I need to check with our distributor.” He muttered to himself as he dropped his dirty clothes into the laundry basket and went into the bathroom. 

*

Rey parked her rental car in front of the clubhouse, double checking her directions. She hoped they'd be able to tell her where the drive to the other side of the vineyard was, the idea of toting her bag through the maze of grapes sounded about as appealing as navigating the subway of New York when both the Mets and the Yankees were in town and playing. She shut the car door, taking a deep breath. “Here we go.” She locked the car and dropped the keys into her purse, starting up the stone steps. On the veranda were two people, a mother and daughter from the looks of it, going over a list of some kind. They both ignored her as she opened the door and went inside. 

“I don't care what they're offering, that's the weekend of the anniversary celebration, and we're not having any weddings here during that!” A young woman, about her own age, was talking into a cellphone, and Rey caught her rolling her eyes at whomever she was speaking to. “If they think it's discrimination because it's two grooms, they're welcome to call me directly and I'll tell them about my two dads. We issued the statement that the last weekend of September is unavailable this year last _October_ and it's been on every add for rental since! And if they've been engaged this long and only waited until now to find a venue, _four_ months before their wedding, I'm sorry, I can't help them, and we are booked solid every weekend until the end of the year, if they're willing to postpone until next year, I believe we have openings staring in March.” She hung up the phone and took a breath. “Sorry about that, may I help you?”

She smiled and held out her hand. “Rey Andor, _Food & Wine_.” 

The woman returned the smile as she shook her hand. “Rose Malbus, assistant directing manager here at Skywalker Vineyards. Lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She paused and indicated the phone. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Not at all. Just another typical Tuesday here." She stuck her phone in her back pocket as the pair from outside came back in. “Did you want another walk-through, Mrs. Sheraton, Miss Sheraton?” 

The woman shook her head. “We're good. We just go down and see Gwen in the office, correct?” 

“That's right.” She beamed. “And congratulations on your engagement, Miss Sheraton.” 

The young woman ducked her head. “Thank you.” The two went down a small corridor.

“I didn't realize that you hosted weddings here.” Rey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I'm a little windblown.” 

“It's fine.” She nodded towards a set of double doors. “This way.” They crossed the lobby and Rose held the door open as they went into a massive room set up with tables. “Yes, we started serving as a wedding venue in the late sixties, an idea of the late Mrs. Skywalker. This building was the old packing barn, and, rather than tear it down, it was refurbished and turned into the reception hall it is now.” She took a deep breath. “Both my parents and Ben, that is, Mr. Solo's parents had their wedding receptions here.” They walked through the room, their footsteps echoing around them. There were stairs leading to a second floor that was open to the rest of the area. 

“It's huge.” Rey turned around, looking back towards the entrance, “do you do tours of the vineyard?” She swung back to look at her guide.

“Only on a reservation basis.” Rose answered as they reached the far side of the room. “It's a safety precaution, for both visitors and for the vineyard.” 

“I can understand that.” The two of them went out a side door and onto a second veranda, and Rey sucked in a sharp breath. In front of them, the land spread out in a riot of green and brown, and beyond that, a brilliant swath of blue; the Pacific. “Damn.” 

“Amazing, isn't it?” The young woman beamed. “I never get tired at this view.” She held out her hand and led her towards some stairs. “We'll come back in a little while and I'll direct you to the private entrance so you can park over there instead of way out here on the far end.” They came to the bottom and went over to a golf cart.

“You can just tell me where it is, I'm sure I can find it.” Rey was feeling a little overwhelmed as they climbed inside.

“Finding it is a bit tricky, so it's better if I show you.” She pulled out a ring that had at least twenty keys on it and fitted one into the ignition. “Hold on.” That was all the warning she got before Rose backed the cart out of its spot, drove out in a semi-circle and then went down the far side of the clubhouse, stopping at an open gate where a man was standing, watching the two of them and he took off his hat as they drew level with him. “Afternoon, Bohdi.” 

“Afternoon, Rose.” The man smiled at the pair of them. “Your dads are still here.”

“I've been working, so they can't complain.” She sighed, and then brightened. “Rey Andor, this is Bohdi Rook, Vineyard Manager.” She paused, catching her breath. “Bohdi, this is Rey Andor, from _Food & Wine_.” 

“Hello.” Rey offered the man a smile as he stepped back, glancing into the vines in front of them. Quiet guy.

“Drive carefully, and let me know if you see any gophers. Pretty sure we got them all yesterday, but there might be a few hold-outs.” He put his hat back on. “Nice meeting you, Miss Andor.” 

“Likewise.” She barely managed to grab the bar in front of her before Rose took off down the dirt road. “Is he okay?” She looked back over her shoulder as the man went the opposite way they did.

“Bohdi? He's fine, he's just not a social sort of guy.” The woman answered. “As he puts it, grapes make sense, humans don't.” She shook her head. “How was your flight?”

“Fine, I slept for most of it.” She replied as the cart slowed and they turned onto a long path that seemed to stretch on out of sight. Rey let herself relax a little as they made their way forward. The air was heavy with the scent of fresh earth and sea. “I didn't realize how massive this place was. Most of the vineyards near where I grew up just grew the grapes that were to be eaten as they were.” 

“Where did you grow up, Miss Andor?” Rose slowed the cart down to a stop as a tractor passed on a cross path and then started up again as soon as it was clear.

“Over near Yuba City. My mother is an architect and my father used to fly for Frontier, now he trains pilots for the company.” There was a slight bump as they drove over a hose. “I'm half surprised they didn't meet me at the airport.” She flushed, shocked at how forward she was being. “Sorry.” 

“It's okay.” Rose shook her head. “I ramble when I'm nervous too.” 

Rey bit off the urge to tell the woman that she was most certainly _not_ nervous, but knew it'd be a lie. She'd been freaking out internally over this assignment since she was given it, and now that she was on it, she still didn't quite believe it was real. The whole arrangement was weird in her mind; spending several days as a guest at the place she was doing an article on. “So how long have you worked at Skywalker?”

“Since I was fourteen. I started the same place nearly all of us here did. Busing tables at events. My dad, Baze used to have Bohdi's job. He retired nearly four years ago, Papa teaches ESL at the community college. Dad still comes and works during the harvest, usually overseeing the temporary help.” She pointed to their left. “The new barn and press are over there.” 

Rey turned to look over Rose's head and saw a roof of some building just visible over the crest of the hill. “Let me guess, full tour tomorrow morning?”

“Provided the fog isn't too heavy, yes.” She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. “Oh, before I forget, Maz, the housekeeper will probably ask you a hundred questions about food preferences. Don't be afraid to say there's something you don't care for. She's a little intimidating, but she'd rather you tell her point blank that you hate spinach than for her to make something with it and have it be wasted.” 

“I eat just about anything.” She grinned. “My first stop outside of San Fran was an In-N-Out, I've missed their burgers on the East Coast.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Rose grinned and turned the cart onto another path. “My boyfriend is from Georgia, and every time he goes to see his parents, he has to go to Shoney's. Which I think is just like Denny's, but he insists that it's different.” 

“I know that argument.” She heard her voice start to fade as a stone structure seemed to rise up out of the hills, and she swallowed hard. “Nice house.” 

“Yeah.” She turned the cart again and they went through another open fence and into a gravel drive. “And don't worry, Mrs. Solo's bark is way worse than her bite.” She parked the vehicle and Rey stepped out, a little shaky. “You okay?” 

“Fine.” She replied, and followed the woman up the stairs, and she glanced out across the view again at the turn. “This is a little daunting, if you take my meaning.” 

Rose stopped and looked back at her. “I do. Sometimes it seems that everyone around here has two or more jobs. Normally, the press just stops at the office, but since this is for a major occasion and since _Food & Wine_ has been singing our praises since the magazine was founded, we felt they needed special attention.” 

Rey nodded. “I'm still rather shocked I was given this assignment, given how important it is.” 

She smirked. “Given the phone calls I've had with your boss, Hux, is it?, you need the week away.” She turned and continued climbing the stairs, leaving Rey feeling somewhere between dumbfounded and grateful.


	3. Chapter 3

Ben finished running a comb through his hair, frowning at his reflection. It was an odd feeling, to get cleaned up in the middle of the day, when there was still work to be done. Although this could be the perfect excuse to get all of the paperwork he knew he had to do done. Sighing, he fastened his watch to his wrist and left the bathroom grabbing a pair of socks from his dresser on his way out of his room. As he came to the foot of the stairs to pull his shoes back on, from outside, he could hear his mother's laughter at something Chirrut said. Standing up he strode across the room and into the kitchen, reaching the door to the shaded patio just as Rose reached the top of stairs, along with a woman he didn't recognize.

He slid the screen door open and stepped outside, just as his mother noticed their guest. “Good lord Rose, little early to start a slumber party, isn't it?”

To her credit, the stranger didn't react to his mother's remark, at least not verbally, she merely blinked in surprise, and Ben could tell she was trying to gauge if his mother was being serious or not.

“You must be Miss Andor.” Ben came over to the stairs, holding out his hand in greeting. “I'm Ben Solo.” 

The woman recovered enough to set her hand in his; her fingers were warm and soft against his, but her handshake was firm. “Yes, please, call me Rey.” 

“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” He stepped aside so she and Rose could come into the shade, and he noticed that she still looked rather nervous, not that he could blame her. His mother had a way of speaking that tended to draw people in or put them on guard; it took a while to figure out if she was joking or being perfectly serious. 

“No, none at all.” the woman skirted around Daphne, who was lying almost asleep next to Chirrut's chair. “They're friendly, right?” She indicated the two service animals. 

“Harmless, just hardworking.” Chirrut turned towards Rey as she sat down in one of the empty Adirondack chairs. “I take it most dogs are not in New York.” 

“More like most dogs of their size are strictly for protection.” She was perched on the edge of her chair, and Ben noticed she followed him with her eyes as he crossed over to the small bar near the kitchen door. “And I also don't usually see service dogs – not working, if you'll forgive the expression.” 

“I can understand that.” His mother smiled and sat forward. “Rose, where are your manners?” 

“Let the girl alone, she works very hard.” Chirrut interjected before Ben could. “Miss Andor, please let me introduce Mrs Leia Skywalker-Solo, and don't take anything she says to seriously. She's all bark and no bite. Although I'm certain that Rose has already told you that.” 

“You have neither.” His mother coughed. “Baze, stop hovering and go help my son before he accidentally breaks a glass.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw is mother straighten up. “Would you care for something to drink, Miss Andor? Iced Tea? Lemonade?” 

“I'm fine, thank you.” Rey shifted in her seat and Ben saw her turn to look at him, and he had the feeling that sitting down with this group of people was a little to daunting right now. 

He finished filling the glasses with ice just as Baze reached them. “Why don't I show you the guest house, Miss Andor? I'm certain you've been sitting for at least half the day and would rather be up on your feet for a little while.” 

“I would.” Rey stood up and Ben stepped around the bar, leaving it to Baze to manage the drinks. “I don't want to be, uh...”

“Oh, tosh.” Mother waved her hand dismissively. “Plenty of time to talk later. Do you eat pasta? Do you eat meat?” 

The woman blinked for a moment, clearly confused. “Yes?” 

“Excellent. Then I'll just tell Maz to go ahead and make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and that's one more thing done.” She settled back into her chair. “Besides, Chirrut and I have a chapter to finish.” She smiled. “We'll talk soon, Miss Andor.” 

Ben walked over and beckoned for Rey to follow him, and they went past the group on the patio, heading to the stairs she had just come up. Not exactly the best way to get to the guest house, but it was better than going through the house and have Maz harp on him for bringing the woman into the house when it was a 'mess' when really, the only clutter might be the television remote and a coffee cup left on a side table. “I'm afraid Rose might have just tossed you into the fray back there.” 

“I don't mind.” Rey replied as they came to the turn. “One time I came back to my apartment to find that one of my roommates had invited several of his coworkers over for take-out and Cards Against Humanity. Twenty people crammed into an apartment meant for around three.” She shook her head. “I refused to take trash duty for the rest of the month because of that.” 

Ben grimaced at the idea of that many people in a small space. “I don't blame you. I hope your roommate also took bathroom cleaning duty for a month as well.” 

She grinned. “Oh he did.” They came down to the drive, and crossed in front of the garage doors, and she glanced across the concrete towards the large shed. “What's in there?”

“Maintenance supplies for the buildings on this side of the property. Lawn mower, pool chemicals, and enough Christmas lights to illuminate the place so you could see it from an airplane.” He chuckled as they came to the stairs on the other side of the garage and started up them. “Speaking of, how was your flight?”

“Fine, I slept most of it.” She answered as they came to the top, the faint scent of chlorine from the pool lingering in the air. “Let me guess, you have to be your own lifeguard?” she quipped as he opened the small iron gate.

He chuckled. “Yes. Although I will tell you that my mother has therapy almost every morning at ten.” Ben paused so she could look around the area, and he slid a hand through his hair. “I know, this whole arrangement must look strange from the outset.” 

“Well, it is a little awkward, ” Rey looked up at him, smiling, “and I'm a little overwhelmed, this seems to go above and beyond, so to speak.”

“Just because you're working doesn't mean it has to be hell. The nearest hotel is forty miles away and the nearest bed and breakfast costs an arm and a leg to stay, and that's just for a single night.” He shrugged and led her across the stonework to the other gate. “Besides, what's the point of having a guest house if you don't use it?”

She shifted on her feet, holding onto the fence. “Point taken, although I won't be here on Sunday. I can't come all this way and not spend some time with my parents.” She leaned forward. “Although my boss might have some objections.” 

Ben smirked. “Sunday is the weekend. I'd say it doesn't count.” He opened the gate and held it for her, willing himself not to stare at her backside as she passed. He'd been doing his best not to stare at her since she'd come into his line of sight. He stepped out after her and the gate swung closed with a loud clunk. “Just across here.” He led her down a stone path partially lined with benches and up to the house that stood just slightly back from the main one. Years ago, when his grandfather's father had been his age, it'd been home to the help. Now the hired help in the house stood at just one person – and Maz had a room of her own on the opposite side of the main house. 

“That's a rather large home just for guests.” Rey stated as he moved a flower pot to retrieve the key. “Especially for just one guest.” She ducked her head. “I mean...”

“In the past, we usually didn't have just one guest.” He unlocked the door and opened it. “Here we are.” 

*

Rey gave Ben a half smile as she stepped inside her lodgings, still feeling utterly out of her league. She wasn't going to state that this place was about the same size of her parent's home in Yuma, and she waited next to the hall stand as he closed the door behind them. The interior was done in warm colors, the walls were all an inviting shade of butter yellow. The stairs were set back and the idea of all this space for a week was mind-boggling. “I'm going to get lost at least once in the next few days.” 

He chuckled. “All the bedrooms are upstairs, and the one at the head of the stairs is the one for you to use, the bathroom is right next to it.” He indicated the stairs and then walked around them, leading her into the open first floor. The room was shaded by the main house, the living room home to a pair of overstuffed leather chairs and a matching couch. A television hung on the near wall, a DVD player and two remotes on the table below it, and there was a print-out of the station listings there as well. 

“I probably won't watch that very much.” She indicated the television as they walked through the room, and she glanced at the vases of flowers that had been left on almost every table; almost nothing but lilies. “Unless it's to check the weather.” 

“That's fine.” Ben answered as they passed a table and chairs, a few puzzles stacked at the far end. “You probably want to go back and get your car here shortly, so you can get settled.” He walked into the kitchen and opened a tall cupboard door. “Now, if you're anything like everyone else around here, you probably would rather have breakfast alone.”

Rey bit back a retort that she had no issues with having company for that meal, but at the same time, understood what he meant. “I usually just have coffee and a bagel for breakfast anyway.” She came over and joined him and saw that in the pantry there were two boxes of cereal – Honey Nut Cheerios and Frosted Mini Wheats. “That's an interesting selection.” She wasn't certain if it was creepy or not that she liked both kinds. 

“Maz figured that since almost everyone likes either one of these, it was a safe bet.” He glanced at the other items in the pantry, which included a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and one of those bear shaped bottles of honey. “There should be milk in the fridge.” He stepped away and Rey took a look in the pantry for herself, noticing that there was also several small jars of jam that looked homemade, and she heard the fridge open behind her. “Yup, milk, creamer, bagels, cream cheese, the standard supply.” 

Rey shut the pantry. “You didn't have to go to any fuss, really.” 

He leaned against the now closed fridge. “It's no trouble, Miss Andor, believe me.” He took a breath. “Would you like to go back and collect your car?” 

She didn't need to be asked twice; she wanted to take a shower and check her email, before she got another series of texts from her boss. “Yes, please.” She let him lead the way out of the house and he locked the door, sticking the key back under the flower pot. “Just out of curiosity, do you drive just as fast as Rose does?” 

Ben looked at her and smirked. “Who do you think taught her how to drive.” He glanced down at her flats, which she'd worn for convenience over comfort on the flight. “I'd suggest walking, but it's a mile and a half from here back to the clubhouse, and I don't think your shoes can make it.”

She lifted her chin, catching the glint in his eyes. “Great shoes for navigating the concrete jungle, not so much the dirt path.” She followed him back down to the driveway. The conversation on the other side trickled down towards them, their laughter muted from the distance. They walked over to a green cart that was just in the shade of the maintenance shed and Mr. Solo took out a similar ring of keys and fitted one into the ignition as she climbed aboard, the seats smaller than the ones in the golf cart. “Let me guess, Rose needs the golf cart to get back herself?”

“Yup.” He gave her a smile. “We'll take the quick way back.” He fired up the cart. “take you on the scenic route tomorrow, if you like.” 

Rey grabbed onto the support bar on the front of the cart as he whipped the vehicle around just as Rose had done, and when they started forward, she was aware that her jeans covered thigh was pressed against his khaki covered one. Rather than go into the vineyard, he went down the driveway itself, and a moment later, they were crossing under trees that shaded the path, and, after another curve, they came to a road she recognized, and there was an open gate she remembered passing as she drove to the clubhouse. 

“Hold on.” Ben said over the hum of the engine as they went into the road and were suddenly racing along, and she didn't dare look over at him to check the speedometer. It was almost like being in a convertible, the wind whipping her hair back from her face as they sped down the hill, and a moment later, the vineyard appeared on their left, and she wasn't certain if the fields on her right was also Skywalker property. “I've been wondering, is Rey short for anything, or are you just Rey?”

“It's short for Reyes.” she answered as the road flattened out. “For my paternal grandmother. I go by Rey because I've had my proper named butchered a few too many times. Most notably by teachers and classmates who thought it was said Re-yes, instead of Rayez.” They slowed as they came to another curve and he pulled into the drive that she knew led to the clubhouse, deciding that turnabout was fair play. “Is Ben short for something?”

“Bennett.” He shook his head. “As in, Elizabeth Bennett, because there was no way in Hell my mother was going to get away with letting my first name be Fitzwilliam.” He grinned. “Which is why it's my middle name.” 

She tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ear as they came up to the clubhouse. “My middle name is Cassandra – after my dad.” she ducked her head as they came to the maintenance she and Rose had passed by around an hour ago. “Hello again, Mr. Rook.” She answered as she saw him come out, looking just as stoic as he had when she first saw him.

“Afternoon, Bohdi.” Mr. Solo stated with a smile. “How are things over here?”

“Now that the gophers are dealt with, everything's great.” He relaxed somewhat. “We need to replace some strands of the barbed wire fence on the south side, they're due.” 

Ben nodded. “I was thinking it was about time to start that again. Remember that the highway mowers will be through tomorrow afternoon, thanks for all your work today.” 

Bohdi smiled at that; and from the looks of it, Rey almost thought he was embarrassed. Then again, saying thank you was a lost art these days. “You too, Ben.” he tipped his hat at her. “And nice to see you again, Miss Andor.” He walked back into the building as she and Ben got out of the cart and started up the path towards the clubhouse.

*

By the time Ben returned to the patio, all three members of the Malbus family were gone, and it was just his mother sitting there, alone. He'd carried Rey's suitcase up to the guest-house, despite her protest that she could manage, informing her that his mother and Maz would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't. He slid into the chair that the woman had occupied earlier, letting out a low groan as he settled into his seat. “I'm surprised you haven't gone inside yet, mom.” 

“I like the fresh air. If I stay inside, I feel cooped up.” She gave him the once over. “Did you help Miss Andor with her luggage?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He replied, giving her a sideways look. “was Rose sufficiently embarrassed by her fathers?”

“That girl.” Mother snickered. “She's used to it by now.” She waved her hand at him. “Come over here so I don't have to turn to look at you, young man.” 

Setting his hands on the arms of the chair, he swung himself upwards to his feet and then crossed over to the table, just as Maz returned to the patio from wherever she had been hiding. “Miss Andor is getting settled, I told her that dinner should be ready around six.” 

“Cheeky.” the short woman replied, setting down a tray on the table. “you shouldn't stay outside so long, young lady.” This she directed at his mother. “It's not good for you.” 

“If I stay inside, I feel stuck.” She pulled the pill minder from the tray towards her and flipped open the right segment, dropping her mid-day regimen into one hand and picking up the glass of water with the other. “I'm doing everything I'm supposed to, and still getting treated like an invalid!” She tossed the pills into her mouth and then drank half the glass of water. “If we did things your way, Maz, I'd still be in that god-awful wheelchair!” she took a strip of bacon off the tray and held it out. “Although you're a good boy, aren't you, Loki?”

The dog sprang to his feet and took the treat from her, and she rubbed his head affectionately. 

“Now, Leia, you know what the doctors have told you....” Maz started to speak again and Ben let out a snort. “I beg your pardon, young man.” 

“I think my mom's done nothing but listen to doctors for the past seven months. I think it's commendable she hadn't told any of them to piss off yet. She's stuck to her diet, does her exercise and the most work she does is proof the ads before we send them out.” He sat up and saw his mother smile at his words. “If she wants to sit out here, in the shade, for hours on end, wearing sunblock and what all, I think she's allowed. If she wants to take a nap out here, so be it. If we kept her inside, she'd be miserable and then she'd make sure we were miserable too.” 

“There you are, Maz, voice of reason.” His mother smirked over her water glass as she gave Loki the other piece of bacon. “Besides, if I was inside watching television, you'd argue that it was rotting my brain. It's not like I've asked Ben to get me a pair of binoculars so I can watch what's going on in the vineyard.” She sat back in her seat. “Although that sounds like a good idea...” 

“Mother.” He stood up and kissed her cheek. “Bohdi would be offended.” He smiled. “If you insist on staying out here, I at least insist that you stay hydrated.” He looked over at Maz. “And yes, I told Miss Andor how to operate the shower.” He straightened. “I have some paperwork I'd like to get finished before dinner.” He inclined his head and went into the house, heading up the stairs and into his office, which was located over the garage, and looked down into the pool area. Across the way, he could see the guest house, but couldn't see any movement within. Not that he would have looked if he had; although if he looked out again and saw the young woman by the pool, he might watch – for a little while.

Ben sat down at his desk, pulling the nearest bundle of papers towards him; Rose did a lot of the paperwork, but he still had his fair share of it. He scanned the document and almost cursed at what it was; this wasn't the first time that TLC had contacted him about their show Four Weddings, and it usually meant hiring extra security to keep the vineyard safe. While most wedding guests understood that staying out of the area was a given, he would think that people running a television show would understand it even better. Pity he didn't know anyone over at Food Network or the Cooking Channel to explain that to them. “ I wonder if the couple would take lowering their bill as an incentive not to be on the show.” He muttered, rubbing his eyes. 

The image of Rey – Miss Andor, he reminded himself – appeared before him and he winced as he lowered his head, resting it against the cool wood of his desk. He'd been without a girlfriend for too long – his last relationship had been six years ago, and had ended amicably, but still ended. Since then, there had been no one in his life, not even a one night stand. Now this young woman had shown up, and hadn't even been here half a day, and he was thinking about her.

Their covered legs had been touching in the golf cart as he drove her back across the vineyard and he'd driven the rental car to the main house, since it was easier than giving her the directions from the passenger seat. But back to the notion of their legs... 

“Damn it.” He tried to ignore his half-hard cock and instead stared at the bland paperwork, resolved to get himself calmed down and back to professional mode by dinner. At least dinner should be easy to get through. His mother would dominate the conversation and it would be good. 

Still didn't stop him from wondering what Rey's bare legs – skin – would feel like against his. 

*

The master bedroom of the guesthouse had to be half the size of Rey's apartment in New York. She pulled her hair out of the bun it was in, glancing over at the shut blinds and then looked at the alarm clock – it was four thirty in the afternoon and her brain felt like it should be evening. Running a hand through her hair, she walked over to her suitcase, lifting it onto the chest at the foot of the bed and unzipping it. She removed her toiletry bag and then took out a clean set of undergarments and a sundress; it looked reasonable enough for dinner. She hadn't been told there would be a dress code for meals, but she was resolved to at least look nice. 

She laid the outfit down on the bed, and then reached back at the suitcase, her fingers lingering for a moment on the long bag tucked under her shorts, and decided against it. Perhaps she'd get it out later, after dinner, once she was in bed and had time to clear her thoughts. She grabbed the toiletry bag and walked into the bathroom, almost laughing at the space; her own bedroom in New York was smaller than this. She shut the door and locked it, and faced the shower, going over what Ben had told her of how to operate it. 

It didn't have a door per se, just a place to walk in and there was a glass wall between it and the rest of the bath. “This is going to be fun.” She got her shampoo and conditioner out, setting it inside the stall, noting that a mesh sponge had been left on the counter, along with a wrapped glass. “Definitely nicer than the Motel Six.” She pulled off her clothes and left them in a pile next to the sink, and grabbed the sponge and her shower gel before stepping into the stall, and turned the right hand dial to the halfway point, then pulled the left hand dial towards her.

Water gushed down in a torrent from the rain-shower-head above her and she let out a shriek as it was cold on her bare skin for a moment, before shifting to warm. Laughing, Rey ran her hands through her hair and tilted her face up into the spray. Yes, this was miles away from the fickle water pressure of the shower at home, and she took the bottle of shampoo to start to work on her hair. This alone was worth the cramped seat on the plane ride here, and all her angry texts from Hux.

Tomorrow, it would be down to business. Tour of the vineyard, take pictures and familiarize herself with the staff. Thursday she'd interview Rose and Mrs. Solo, learn some of the history of the place. Friday, she'd interview Mr. Solo and Mr. Rook, take more pictures. There was probably a wedding taking place on Saturday – so perhaps she could take pictures of that as well – Sunday would be her off day, see her parents, and Monday she'd review everything before heading back to New York next Tuesday. 

“Do those Top Chef interviews on Saturday, if I can.” She muttered as she took up the mesh sponge and poured some shower gel into it. As much as it seemed like this would be a vacation, she did have a mountain of work to do, and she had to work around other people's schedules; she'd make those calls and schedule the interviews with the Top Chef contestants tomorrow – she knew what kinds of hours those people kept. 

She slid the sponge down her front and the image of Ben Solo's hand ran through her mind, and she had to reach out with her free arm to grasp the side of the shower. 

What had brought that on? 

She shook her head to clear it, and went back to washing herself, but other images of her host wandered across her thoughts. The memory of their legs touching nearly all the way through the vineyard, and how she was certain he'd have put his hand on her knee to steady her if they were better acquainted. She dropped the sponge and ran her hands through her hair to rinse it, and the idea of Ben Solo standing at the entrance of the shower, watching her made her flush and she had to open her eyes and make sure he wasn't really there.

“Get a hold of yourself, Andor.” she grumbled as she took up the bottle of conditioner and applied it the same as she had the shampoo, stepping out of the spray somewhat as she retrieved her sponge and washed the grime of travel away, grateful that she didn't need to shave. She scrubbed on her arms more than anything, the only part of her skin that had been in contact with surfaces on the plane; her father had told her that a plane only gets completely deep cleaned about once a month, if that. Usually it was just a quick swipe with a cleaning cloth and nothing through by any means. Grabbing onto one of the side bars as she scrubbed her left foot and then her right, resolutely trying to put her host's face out of her mind.

Rey already knew that when she got to her parents home in Yuma on Sunday, they'd fuss over her in a way that was borderline embarrassing. She often thought that people who said they wanted to be only children had no idea what they were talking about. Being the only child meant that your parents found out _everything_ and there was no way to avoid getting out of things. She was going to be subjected to a weeks worth of smothering into half a day, and it was going to be both wonderful and annoying. Papa would tell her she was too thin, that she should eat more, Mom would ask the more personal questions, wanting to know if she was seeing anyone, if she had seen anyone, was there anyone she was thinking about – as if being single at twenty-four was some sort of crime.

Thank god her parents had yet to bring up the dreaded word _grandchildren._

She rinsed the conditioner from her hair, then turned the shower off, and grabbed a towel from the bar outside of it. The steam from the shower kept her from being cold as she wrapped the towel around her chest and then wrapped a second around her hair. “They didn't mention it at Christmas, and it's only been four months.” She picked up her clothes and left the bath, most of the exhaustion of travel had gone down the drain. “And they had plenty of opportunity.” It wasn't like either of her parents were all that old either; she couldn't picture them as doting grandparents anymore than she could imagine herself a mother.

The rest of her routine was as methodical as it was at home. Brushed her teeth, washed her face, put on moisturizing lotion, and after she rubbed her hair dry and combed it out, she swung the door to the bedroom back open, and blinked in surprise at the clock. She'd only been in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, almost half the time she usually took. “What do you expect, the shower at home is shit.” She shook her head and went over to the bed and dressed quickly, leaving her sandals behind as she took up her backpack and went downstairs. 

The table on the main floor was perfect to spread her work out on; and Rey took out the stack of folders from her bag, letting them fall onto the surface with a satisfying _slap_ as she pulled her laptop out and then dug into the bottom of the bag to find the charger/plug. “Whatever you do, don't lose track of time.” She reminded herself as she sat down and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hello and what not on Tumblr, @soldierofhalla17


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner is always an event in the Solo family - even when there are guests. Especially if there are guests.

Ben walked across the pool deck, knowing that while dinner still wouldn't be on the table for another ten minutes, it was better if he went early rather than get involved with something and suddenly realize he was expected in the dining room twenty minutes ago. He had managed to work through a significant chunk of paperwork, and it had also kept his mind off of dinner. It'd been hunger, more than anything, that caused him to put aside his work and move onto other things; he just hoped Maz didn't give him hell about skipping lunch, _again_ , when he hadn't. Not really. A peach and some cheese and crackers counted as lunch, didn't it? At least it was _healthy_. Something he used to ignore constantly.

There hadn't been a guest – well, a stranger – come to their house for dinner since around this time last year when Rose had brought her boyfriend over to 'meet the family' and the poor guy had learned that not only was he facing a girl with two fathers, but also two uncles, a sharp tongued aunt and himself. Her overprotective, unofficial big brother. He glanced back across the pool, just on the off-chance he'd been oblivious and Miss Andor was on one of the chairs, soaking up sunshine in the weather that New York wouldn't be enjoying for at least another month. “Calm down, dumb-ass.” He muttered as he stepped up to the door of the guest house and knocked. 

There was a loud thumping sound, following an odd series of noises that could only be the woman trying to run and put her shoes on at the same time. When the door was opened a second later, Rey was letting go of an elastic to put her hair into a very messy bun and she looked somewhere between worried and embarrassed. “I didn't sleep through dinner, did I?”

“No.” He smiled, and noticed a rather strange looking mark along her cheek; as if she'd fallen asleep with her face against her laptop. “Have a nice nap?”

“Yeah.” She paused and then stepped back into the house to grab the key and her phone. “I guess the sleep on the plane wasn't as good as I originally thought.” 

He moved to give her room to come outside and shut the door. “Maybe you're catching up on any lost sleep from the past week.” 

“More like the last month. One deadline after another.” She groaned as she locked the door and put the key back under the pot. “I'm just thankful that Food Network has their own magazine.” She frowned. “Well, not that I'd have... do you know what I mean?”

“Given some of the things I see on that station, I can't blame you. I imagine that the place has to be home to a popularity contest that rivals anything either of us saw in high school.” they started towards the house, and he held the pool gate open for her. “I'm half-convinced that nearly all the competition shows are fixed. I'm positive that _Chopped Junior_ is, and possibly _Cutthroat Kitchen_.” 

“I hate watching those sorts of shows, because we, the audience, have no idea what the food actually tastes like. I've only had the pleasure of tasting the food once on _Top Chef,_ and I was disappointed with the results.” She tucked a strand of hair that hadn't made it into the bun behind her ear. “Although that could be because the team I sampled had made tamales, and I'm afraid I'm a bit of a snob when it comes to those.” 

Ben grinned back at her as he opened the sliding glass door and waited for her to go through. “Let me guess, grandma made the best, and you expect them all to be as good as hers, or nearly.” 

“Exactly. No one can make tamales like my grandma could. But I can always tell who's learned the authentic way and who just read the directions out of a book, or watched someone make them once or twice.” She made a face. “Although my dad does make a good effort on occasion. I don't attempt it because the kitchen in my apartment is barely bigger than a closet.” She chuckled as he came in. “Not to mention I'm certain that if my roommates and I did attempt it, Poe and I would have a fight over the proper way to make them. It'd end with the two of us covered in masa and Finn having to call for pizza.” 

“I've had New York style pizza. It's excellent.” He led her down the hall towards the dining room. “Although I haven't had it in a while. Maz doesn't make pizza from scratch because as she puts it, we lack the proper oven.” He grinned. “Although I occasionally cook a frozen one on the grill.” 

“People actually do that?” She stopped and he turned to see her looking at the framed art on the wall. “Is this supposed to be one of those copy-made-to-look authentic paintings, or an inspired by piece? Because if it's the former, it's a terrible job.”

Ben didn't bother to hide his smirk. “The later, Miss Andor. I'll have you know I worked for three months on that piece as a Mother's Day present. And keeping it a secret _wasn't_ easy.” He frowned as he stepped back to look at the painting, and shrugged. “It's not my fault that _Luncheon of the Boating Party_ is on the other side of the country and I only had images from the Internet to look at for reference.” 

Rey tapped her fingers against her chin. “I do like the cell-phones on the table and that the man in the background is wearing a Dodger's cap.” She stepped back, worrying her bottom lip. “When did you paint this?”

“High school.” He ducked his head as they started back up the hall. “I actually did it over at the Malbuses', it was under the guise of watching Rose after school.” He hadn't picked up his paintbrushes in years; he actually missed every and then, and while he'd thought of taking it up again, he never could seem to find the time.

“You have any other paintings in the house?” Her tone was light, and he smiled.

“A few.” He felt his cheeks flush. “My mom used to frame almost everything I did, it was sort of embarrassing sometimes.” He stood in the threshold to the dinning room and he saw that his mother wasn't there yet, and he gestured for Rey to go in ahead of him. “Rose has the same problem with pottery. Baze is still using the pencil holder she made him when she was in second grade.” 

“I think that might be a little different.” Rey stepped past him into the room, and stopped next to the sideboard. “Smells good.” 

He knew what she meant by the art-forms being different. “I think it's the fact that she's progressed in her craft she's rather embarrassed by how her stuff used to look.” he went over to the doorway into the kitchen. “Maz, you need any help?” 

“Bah!” The woman answered and he went into the kitchen, finding her standing over the stove, testing the pasta with a fork. “This is nearly done, get the garlic knots out of the oven before they burn, and use a potholder!”

“Yes, ma'am.” He grabbed the nearest one to him and went over to the ovens, turning it off before pulling the door down and grabbing the pan, just as Rey stepped into the doorway, looking at the two of them from next to the fridge. “You can go ahead and sit down, Miss Andor. You're a guest.” He set the hot pan down on the stove. 

“I can't hear the conversation very well in the other room and I was brought up not to shout indoors.” She quipped, leaning against the fridge. 

“So polite.” Maz replied and stepped past Ben. “keep an eye on that.” She indicated the pot of pasta as she went over to Rey. “Maz Kanata.” She held out her hand. “And you are?”

“Reyes Andor.” The young woman sounded slightly surprised. 

“Andor?” Maz let out a low chuckle. “Cassian Andor's daughter?”

“You know my father?” Ben looked up to see Rey give the shorter woman a surprised look. 

“Know him? Ha!” She came back over to the stove. “We went to high school together. Teachers didn't like his sense of humor. Landed him in detention a few too many times.” She checked the pasta again and handed Ben a second potholder. “Go and drain it, young man. I'd like to speak with our guest.” 

“Yes, boss.” He replied, picking the pot up and carrying over to the sink, dumping the pasta into the colander, steaming rising up as he did, and then realized his mistake; he'd forgotten to take off his glasses as the lenses fogged up. He set the pot back on the stove and pulled his glasses off, setting them on the counter before picking the colander up and shaking the excess water from the pasta. Behind him, he could hear the conversation continue.

“I went to River Valley High. I wouldn't be surprised if Rose's school and mine used to play against each other all the time.” Rey cleared her throat. “Rose didn't play soccer, did she?”

“No, she played volleyball.” Maz replied. “Ben was the soccer player.” 

He rolled his eyes as he dumped the pasta back into the pot. “Don't even ask why I didn't play basketball.”

“I wasn't going to.” Rey grinned at him as he turned around. “Just because someone's tall doesn't mean they have to play basketball. It'd be like asking short people why they aren't gymnasts or jockeys.” 

*

Rey had a feeling that Mr. Solo and his mother only ate in the dining room on special occasions. The whole room had an air of formality, and, while she hated to think of it like this, with Mrs. Solo sitting at the head of the table and her son facing her, it was like being on an extremely unexpected 'meet the parents' dinner. She glanced down to her left, where Loki was lying on the carpet, looking just as sleepy as he had this afternoon; she wasn't even entirely certain what sort of service he provided. Mrs. Solo could walk just fine, was neither blind nor deaf – maybe he detected seizures. She looked back at her plate just as the woman cleared her throat.

“Now, Miss Andor, why do you write about food? It's not something many journalists aspire to.” Mrs Solo smiled, picking up her water glass. 

“Food and beverages are a safe subject. They don't change the way politics or celebrities do. They're constant.” She picked up her fork and knife, cutting one of the meatballs on her plate into fourths. The things were the size of billiard balls. “Everyone who likes pizza all have a different opinion on what good pizza is, but they all agree that pizza is good.” 

“Hmm.” The woman gave her a look over the rim of her glass, and Rey suddenly felt like she was at a job interview.

“Mom, be nice.” Ben muttered more to his plate than to anyone. “She's better than anyone from a San Fran paper has been.” 

“True.” She set her water glass down and picked up her fork and knife, going to work on her own meatballs.

Rey used her spoon to swirl the pasta onto her fork, deciding it'd be best if she just looked at her food. “It's all right, Mr. Solo, and it wasn't just that food was a safe subject. I also didn't want to get into the snake pit that is politics.” 

“Augh, don't get me started.” Mrs. Solo muttered. “So in other words, you did the smart thing and went to where the competition wasn't as hard. It's why I've been trying to get Ben to go to one of those _Supernatural_ conventions. That Misha Collins fellow says that there's always lots of single women there.” 

“Yeah, single women who are still in college, or younger.” He retorted and she looked up and met his gaze. “I'm sorry, she still thinks I'm eighteen.” 

“As is my prerogative. You're the only kid I've got.” She gestured towards Rey. “I'm certain Miss Andor has the exact same thing happen with her parents.” 

Rey felt her cheeks flush and she saw that Ben's ears were pink. “Actually, Mrs Solo, most every guy I ever dated my father ran off with shovel.” She ate a forkful of spaghetti, and she nearly groaned at the taste; when was the last time she'd had fresh pasta?

Mrs. Solo started to laugh. “Just you wait. And please, call me Leia. Mrs Solo was my mother-in-law.” She picked up her water glass, swirling it slowly like it was wine. “No need to feel older than I already do.” She took a large sip and then turned her attention to her food.

She swallowed and looked over at Ben, who was watching his mother for a moment, then back at his plate. Something had passed between mother and son and she didn't want to ask; maybe this was a familiar conversation for the two of them. She set her fork down and pulled open the garlic knot on the plate, the smell of butter and hot dough so enticing, she was half tempted to shove the whole of it into her mouth at once. “I'm sorry, Mrs...Leia... it's a professional habit.” 

“It's fine.” Ben answered before his mother could. “you're welcome to call me Ben if you like.” 

“Okay.” She took a bite of bread and couldn't keep the groan of delight silenced.

“Maz, I believe we've found the ten-thousandth person to fall in love with your garlic knots.” Leia spoke towards the kitchen.

“She's not there to hear you. I gave her the rest of the night off.” Ben answered. “I said I'd clean up the kitchen and do the dishes.”

“Maz isn't that much older than I am, young man.” Leia looked affronted, lifting her chin.“You never send me off to my room for the night.”

“Of course not. Because Maz actually listens to me.” Came the sharp retort and he stuffed a meatball quarter into his mouth, his eyes bright with mischief. 

Rey had to cover her mouth with her napkin to keep from spiting out her food to contain her amusement and managed to swallow her bread. “That doesn't mean you shouldn't try doing it every now and then. The choices of her saying yes or no are fifty-fifty.” 

“Bennett Fitzwilliam, marry this girl!” Leia declared, slapping her hand on the table, beaming.

 _“Mother!”_ Ben's face was now as red as the marinara sauce, and Rey was certain so was hers. “I am not marrying someone whom I have just met!” He turned towards her. “I'm sorry if you're offended, Miss Andor.” 

She took a large sip of water, trying to calm herself. “It's fine, Ben. I'm certain your mother is just teasing us.”

“I never tease. I'm perfectly serious.” Leia interjected. “You two eat your dinners before it gets cold.” She reached for her water glass and then pulled her arm back, suddenly looking small and contrite. “I think I'm overtired.” 

Ben stood up and went over his mother's chair. “Come on, up you get.” He looked towards Rey. “You go ahead and eat.” He helped the woman to her feet and a moment later, the two of them and Loki walked out of the dining room, leaving her alone. 

Rey started at her plate for a few moments, not certain what she should do. She could remember the few times her mom had escorted her grandmother up from the table or inside when she was a teenager, and had always felt just as lost as she did now. She ducked her head and ate a little more pasta, time seeming to be at a standstill. Somewhere in the house she heard water running and she had just finished the last of her first meatball when Ben came back into the room, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Everything all right?”

“Everything's good. I need to talk to Maz about moving dinner to an earlier time. Today's been a little to eventful for her.” He sat down, letting out a weak groan. “Sorry, I shouldn't be talking about these sort of things.” 

“I'm not here to write an article on you and your family's private lives.” She poked at her food. “I'm here for the wine, not to create gossip.” She glanced up, to see him watching her. “What?”

“Would you like some?” His eyes sparkled. 

“Some what?” She frowned. “Gossip?”

“No, wine.” He glanced at his mother's now empty place. “I don't drink it in front of my mom, since the doctors have struck it from her diet.” 

“Um...” She swallowed, then managed a smile. “I would love some, please.” She saw his face brighten and he walked back into the kitchen, returning a minute later with two glasses and a dark green bottle. “What, you're not going to card me?”

He smirked at her as he set the glasses down and took a corkscrew out of his pocket. “As you're the same age as Rose, I wasn't going to ask. I also know that you're not going to be driving anywhere tonight.” He pulled the cork from the bottle with a loud _pop_ and then filled the two glasses halfway. The wine was a rich, red color and he glanced at the label for a moment. “Two-thousand fourteen zinfandel.” He suddenly looked up, worried. “You're not allergic to sulfides, are you?”

“No.” She smiled as he set a glass in front of her. “Thank you.” She waited until he was seated again before she picked the glass up and took a whiff of the vintage before she took a sip. “That's good.” 

Ben smiled over the rim of his own glass. “Thank you.” He took a drink and then set the glass down, and picked up his knife and fork. “Do you drink wine often?”

“Not as often as I'd like. Budget, time, deadlines...” She shook her head. “Not to mention my roommate Poe is constantly telling me I don't know how to properly choose a wine.” 

He smirked, his fork poised halfway to his mouth. “Poe's a chef, isn't he?” 

“How could you tell?” She took up her own fork. “Let me guess – you've known a few chefs who think they're wine experts when really, they couldn't tell you the difference between chardonnay and champagne?”

He nodded in reply, rolling his eyes as he finished chewing his mouthful of dinner. “I find that chefs know the wine that goes with their cuisine of expertise, so unless they studied French style, they have no idea what wines go outside their realm of study.” He started to twirl his fork against his spoon, refilling it with spaghetti. “Then again, if they studied French style, they'll also have disdain for all other food, so why bother pairing wines with any of them?”

“That's what the Internet is for. That's why I know Cabernet Sauvignon goes with meat lovers pizza.” She saw him smile over his fork as she speared another chunk of meatball.

*

“You don't have to help me do the dishes, Rey.” Ben shook his head as he put the leftover garlic knots into a zip-lock bag and tossed it into the bread drawer. “Really.” He took a sip from his second glass of wine, and shooed her away from the sink. “You're a guest.” 

“You're not winning this argument.” The young woman grumbled, backing away from the sink, towards the fridge, still holding her glass. “If you won't let me wash, at least let me dry.” 

He sighed and then shook his head. “Maz is going to give me hell for this.”

“My parents brought me up to help out whenever I stay with people.” She set her glass down as he started to fill the sink with hot water. “I'd feel guilty if I just stood and watched.” 

Ben shook his head and added soap to the sink, turning the water off. “It's not all the dishes, at least. Just the things that can't go in the dishwasher. Which amounts to the silver, the knives and a saucepan.” He opened a drawer and drew out a towel. “Thankfully, Maz didn't get into her head that she needed to break out the fine china.” He swallowed. “We haven't used that in over a year.” 

She didn't ask him why, and he was glad of it; the fine china was for special occasions only, and the last time it had been used had been on his parent's last wedding anniversary, their fortieth, before the accident. “Let me guess, it's primarily for holidays?”

“Something like that.” He shrugged as he dropped the sliver into the sink and let it soak for a moment before he felt around in the water and pulled out a spoon. “Are you sure you don't want any dessert?”

“I couldn't eat another thing, and I mean it. I had garlic knots for dessert.” She grinned and took a sip from her glass. “What did Maz put in those to make them so addictive?”

“Butter. Lots and lots of butter.” He grinned as he washed the spoon, then dropped it the empty side of the sink before pulling out another piece. “I'm guessing, because this morning there was a pound of butter in the fridge and it's not there now. Then again, Maz also made pie crust today.” He moved onto another piece of silverware. 

“It's been a long day.” Rey leaned back against the counter, staring at the wine in her glass. “Odd question, but how did the vineyard make it through Prohibition?' 

“We were able to secure a contract with the Dioceses of San Francisco and Sacramento to continue to make wine for religious purposes.” He grinned as he cleaned the forks. “Which is actually why we have far more red wines than white.” 

“I'm not Catholic, so I wouldn't know. My parent's church just used grape juice.” She frowned. “You're not Catholic, are you?”

He shook his head. “No, but my great-grandfather was.” He thought for a moment. “They also sold grapes to a company that made jam. It went out of business after World War Two.” He set the forks in the dry part of the sink and took another drink of wine. “Our vineyard was one of the lucky ones.” 

Rey nodded. “All the orchards around where I grew up used to be vineyards. The infamous peach orchards of _Grapes of Wrath_.” She made a disgusted noise and went over to his other side, and pulled the faucet towards her, and rinsed off the already clean silverware.

“You don't need to do that.” He stated as she shut the water off. “This won't take too long.” He indicated the soapy water. “Really.”

She set down her wine glass. “I need to keep my hands busy so I don't go through my second glass like it's water.” She picked up the spoons and started drying them. “What time does everyone get up around here? I know I'm not in the house, but what time to people get moving?”

“Everyone is up by eight, but there are people working in the vineyard as early as five. My mom's physical therapist is here from nine-thirty until eleven thirty.” He set the last of the silverware into the sink and then started to clean the cooking knives. “Breakfast and lunch are not much of a to-do. Lunch it's usually come into the kitchen and Maz harps on whomever you are to eat what she puts in front of you.” He gave Rey a pointed look. “And don't worry if you have to be firm when you're full. Maz thinks just about everyone looks emaciated these days, and will feed you half your own weight in food if you let her.” 

“Do Baze and Chirrut come by every day?” She looked down at the dried silverware in her hands. “Where should I put these?”

“On the island.” He nodded to the counter behind them. “I'll put them up when we're finished here.” He rinsed the knives. “They come every day, always after lunch. Chirrut teaches in the morning and then comes over to read to my mom. I think it's his and Baze's way of getting my mother to socialize.” He let out a little of the water before putting the saucepan into the sink. “They usually come over, Chirrut and my mother bicker. Baze goes and either gives Rose or Bohdi a hard time and then they go home.” 

Rey picked up the long knife and dried it carefully before taking it over to the block on the counter. “Let me guess, Rose gets embarrassed and Bohdi just sort of takes it?”

“Something like that.” He sighed. “Bohdi knows that Baze always means well. It can be a bit of a culture clash.” He focused on the pan for a moment. “My mother has insisted that I be the one to give you the tour of the vineyard tomorrow. So I suggest you wear comfortable shoes and sunscreen. We're going to be doing a lot of walking.”

“I walk plenty in the city, I won't mind.” Rey returned to leaning against the counter, and held her glass in both hands. “What time?” 

He rinsed off the saucepan and set in the sink, giving her a worn smile. “Can you be ready to head out at quarter after nine?” 

She nodded. “Is it all right if I take pictures while we're out there?”

“Of course. Although I must ask that you ask any employees who might be in said picture if it's all right if you photograph them.” He let the water out of the sink and then wiped down the sink itself. “You can leave that pot, it's better if it air-dries.” He held his hand out for the towel, and then he hung it over the oven handle. “And that's the kitchen, neat and tidy.” He took up his glass and drained the contents. “I want to apologize again if my mother embarrassed you at dinner.” 

Rey looked into her own glass for a moment before looking at him. “I wasn't embarrassed, Ben. My roommates can be far worse. If our work schedules weren't so hellish, they'd be setting me up with blind dates left and right.” she took a large sip of wine, and then set down her glass, walking over towards him. “Although I think turnabout would be fair play, don't you?”

He gave her a wary look “What are you thinking of doing, Miss Andor?” 

She smirked and nodded towards the counter, where the open bottle still stood, two thirds empty. “Let's finish the wine and I'll tell you while we do.” 

*

“Comfortable?” Rey had to admit as far as plots went, this was one of her most extreme. The couch in the family room was in full view of the windows, and since this was the main hub of the house, anyone in the house would have to pass by them to get anywhere else. Sleeping on top of the man she had come to interview was all sorts of unprofessional, but right now, she was too tired to care. 

“Uh huh.” Ben answered, yawning and adjusting his hips slightly. He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, while she was wearing an oversized pair of boxers and cami-top. “Although I can't promise things will stay calm in certain areas.” His cheeks were slightly pink and she smiled sleepily at him.

“I live with two guys and I'm not a virgin, so it's nothing I'm not familiar with in some regards.” She set her head down on Ben's chest, and closed her eyes. She felt his hand resting on the small of her back, and she felt him take a deep breath. “Your mom won't call my boss, will she?”

“Hell no. Hux had to through Rose to get this interview in the first place.” He chuckled. “Although given the choice between the two, she'll take getting stuck in an elevator with Armitage Hux over Alton Brown nine times out of ten.” He sighed and kissed the top of her head. “Good night, Reyes.” 

She smiled and pressed a kiss on his shoulder. “Good night, Bennett.” She let out a squeal when his hand tickled her side. “Hey!”

“Don't call me Bennett.” She could hear his grin as his hand settled back down on her. “Not until after the honeymoon, sweetheart.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She pulled her hand back, hoping her blush hadn't spread to her ears. “Flirting is unprofessional, Mr. Solo.” She managed, “this isn't some Harlequin Romance.”
> 
> He smirked. “Of course it's not. For it to be a Harlequin, I'd need to be a widower with an adorable baby and you'd have to be either the new nanny or a wedding planner whose fiance dumped her for a supermodel a week before the wedding.” He took a breath. “And as for flirting, what exactly do you call your proposal last night?”

Rey woke up with an odd thumping noise right against her ear. It was steady, constant, and entirely unfamiliar. Come to think of it, the whole of where she was seemed unfamiliar. Her pillow seemed to moving and smelled of soap. Her bed had changed shape too; no, it wasn't a bed. At least, not her own. Or if she was, she wasn't alone. She could feel soft hair against her fingers, and there was one arm around her waist, and a hand of another cupping her rear. Reality and the memory of last night jolted through her at the exact same time a woman's shrill voice bolted her to full awareness.

“Bennett Fitzwilliam Solo, what are you doing?” 

Underneath her, she heard Ben chuckle. “Well, mom, after you went to bed, I offered Rey some wine, and we discussed getting married. You told me to marry her.” His hand moved off of her backside and she felt him fold them at the small of her back. “Once the dishes were done, we'd drunk nearly the entire bottle, and I knew better than taking off for the county courthouse to wait for it to open in such a state. Not to mention driving over to Rey's parents to ask permission. So we fell asleep discussing our wedding.” 

She cracked open an eye to see Leia Solo standing over her and Ben; her face full of amused outrage. “Good morning, Mrs. Solo.” She managed a smile, doing her best to look innocent.

“Oh, you're awake.” Ben stated, moving his arms so she could move to the side and he nudged her slightly with his leg. “I didn't want to risk waking you by getting up.” She slid behind him and onto the couch proper as he sat up, and he turned and gave her a wink. “And good morning, mother.” He stood and kissed her cheek. “I'll go make us all some coffee.” He walked out of the living room, leaving the two of them alone. Looking up at the her, Rey did not believe a grown woman wearing pajamas that had pastel bears all over them could look intimidating.

Until now.

“Cheeky.” The woman rested one hand on her hip, the dog Loki looking intently at her as well. “If you two ever do end up together, I'm telling this story to everyone at your wedding, and I don't give a damn how embarrassed you are about it. Do I make myself clear?” She pointed a finger at her. “And don't even think you can get out of it by eloping! I will find a way. I will conspire with your mother and find a way, young lady.” 

Rey rose to her feet and arched an eyebrow. “Make sure you remember all the details, because my mother is a stickler for them.” She looked down at her shorts and cami-top. “I should probably get dressed before breakfast.” 

Something changed in the woman's smile. “Nonsense. You're fine just as you are.” She put a hand on her arm and half pushed, half led her out of the living room and down towards the kitchen. “Goodness knows, breakfast is almost always informal and I've seen Rose in outfits similar to yours constantly.” 

It was on the tip of her tongue to point out Rose was practically family, but given the look on the other woman's face, she knew better than to argue. “Shame I don't have any bunny slippers then.” They came into the kitchen just in time to find Ben confronting a rather disgruntled looking Maz, who was brandishing the empty bottle of wine.

“Do not lie to me young man, did your mother have any of this?” It didn't seem possible for someone short as she was could sound seven feet tall.

“No!” He insisted, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Rey and I drank the wine after mom went to bed. I know better than to give her any alcohol. It's the reason we haven't had vodka sauce in months!” 

“What did you think you were doing?” Maz was still advancing, backing him towards the pair of them. “You know we only have this on special occasions!” 

“And Miss Andor being our guest is not a special occasion?” Leia interjected, coming over and taking the bottle from the other woman. “We cannot ask someone to come to stay at our vineyard and not serve them wine. Furthermore, she should have a glass at every dinner from now on. We have enough variety, it should be no problem. Come to write an article on a vineyard and have no wine? That makes no damn sense. Might as well go to a restaurant and just watch food being made and smell things instead of eating.” She turned and gave Rey a smile. “Besides, I know Ben only refrains from drinking in front of me because I no longer can. Rubbish.” She gave her son a hug, the shift of mood she was displaying was almost dizzying. “You go ahead and do so, young man. I'll consider it payback for all the popcorn this family ate in front of you when you had braces.” 

“Hmm.” Maz took the bottle back and then looked from her to Ben. “Go find Miss Andor a shirt, Bennett. She looks cold.” 

“Yes, ma'am.” Ben nodded and walked out of the kitchen, winking at Rey again as he passed, and she felt somewhat calmer.

“They weren't in the pool, were they?” Maz asked Leia as if Rey wasn't in the room, able to answer for herself.

“Of course not. Just sharing the couch.” Leia retorted and sat down at the kitchen table, sighing loudly. “I already took my meds, so don't harp on me about taking care of myself either.” the dog laid down at her feet, looking completely unperturbed by the whole series of events. “I'm not completely helpless.”

Rey was trying to figure out how being in the pool could be so bad, not to mention the fact had she and Ben been in the pool, they'd be dripping water all over the place. Shrugging, she backed towards the counter, shooting a look across the kitchen and then back at Maz, who had gone over to the fridge and was unloading things onto the counter. “Here, let me help you.” She came over to join the woman, holding the door open. 

“Suppose I should be glad.” Maz sighed as she set the container of eggs down. “Goodness knows, it's a nice change of pace.” 

“Here.” Ben had returned, looking rather sheepish as he handed her a navy t-shirt and she quickly pulled it on; she knew it was his, the hem fell almost to her knees. 

“You go sit down, Miss Andor. Bennett is perfectly capable of helping me.” Maz stated, and Rey ducked around to the table where Leia was flipping through a magazine, doing what she thought was a spectacular job of pretending she wasn't sitting across from her. She saw the woman look up and then wink. Rey managed a weak smile and looked down at her hands. “You're eating a good breakfast today, the three of you. You all have full days ahead of you and you need to eat.” 

“Don't worry, Maz, considering how good your breakfasts are, it won't be a problem.” Leia said, more to her magazine than to the woman herself. 

Ben came over and set a cup of coffee in front of Rey, and a cup of tea in front of his mother. “Maz, mom didn't have any dessert last night, I'd say she's earned a waffle, and her physical therapist was praising her progress yesterday. She does it nearly every day without complaint, she deserves the treat.” He smiled at Rey. “Do you want one?”

“Waffle?” She blinked in surprise, and her stomach rumbled. “Uh...”

“My son makes wonderful waffles. Ben, make one for both of us. Please.” Leia spoke before Rey could, taking up her mug of tea. “Blueberry?”

“We can do blueberry.” He grinned and turned to look at her. If he was always able to wake up this chipper, she was jealous. “Or would you prefer chocolate chip?”

She wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug, not able to recall the last time she'd actually eaten a homemade waffle. “Blueberry sounds wonderful, thank you.” 

“Coming right up.” He turned headed back towards Maz. “And we don't tell Rose she missed Waffle Wednesday, or she'll want one for lunch.”

“Yes, and you're enough of a softie for that young lady you'd make her one.” Maz answered, laughing.

Rey took a sip of coffee and then looked over at the woman, still slightly shocked at what was going on. “I thought breakfast was sort of everyone's alone meal.”

“Normally, it is.” Leia sighed. “But when her majesty, Queen Maz Takkonda declared we're having special breakfast for Wednesday, we know better than to argue.”

She smiled over the rim of her mug. “I'm learning.” She turned her attention to the coffee, rather wishing she and Ben were still back on the couch, comfortable and unaware. At least they hadn't been caught doing something... she shook her head to clear it. She needed to keep this professional from now on. Despite the fact she really wanted to try having a decent snuggle with her host. 

Ben Solo would be an amazing snuggler, she knew – among other things.

“I know what you're thinking.” Leia's voice cut into her thoughts and she nearly went pink at the sight of the woman's knowing look. “Break his heart, little girl, and you'll answer to me.” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” She tried to maintain a straight face. 

“Mother, what are you telling our guest?” Ben's voice called from across the room.

“Oh, not much.” The woman had the most deceptively sweet smile on her face. “Rey, tell us about your roommates. I assume they're a safe subject.”

“Uh...” She took a sip of coffee before speaking again. “Which one do you want to hear about first? The chef or the techie?” Anything to get the conversation away from her and Ben.

*

Breakfast was over far too swiftly in Ben's mind. After eating and getting dressed, he headed outside, ready for the day. He leaned against the garage, arms folded as he waited for Rey to come down from the guesthouse. He knew his mother wasn't upset about the couch thing, he'd feared it would be Maz who found them this morning, not his mother. Maz would still be screaming if she had. He ran a hand through his hair and looked up when he heard the gate by the pool swing shut and a moment later, the young woman bounded down the stairs wearing cargo shorts and a t-shirt advertising a pizza place in Brooklyn, carrying her backpack from yesterday, but it was noticeably less heavy looking. “Got everything?”

“I think so. Sorry, I got a little distracted, I didn't notice yesterday that you can see the ocean from the back windows of the guest house.” She stepped into the shade, coming to stand next to him and hefting her bag up to check inside. “Camera, notebook, sunblock, because I know I'll need to reapply it, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge...” She stopped and looked up at him. “Sorry, rambling. Did you need one?” 

“I'm fine. I know where to get more water.” He chuckled as they walked across the drive to the machine garage. “Guess I don't need to ask you if you slept comfortably.” 

“You're awful.” She gave him a look, “Are your ribs okay?” She ducked her head. “I mean, I did sort of spend the night on top of you, and I'm not super-light.” 

Ben shook his head and led her over to the row of carts before selecting one. “We used to have two gigantic Alaskan Malamutes, named Chewbacca and Captain.” He saw her raise an eyebrow. “I didn't name them. But they used to constantly decide the best place to sleep was on top of me. Didn't matter where I was, or what season it was. Both of them at the same time. That was around a hundred and fifty pounds, plus fur.” He rolled his eyes at the memory of the countless nights he'd woken up to find himself being smothered by the two dogs. “Believe me, you spending the night where you did was no problem. And you have better breath than either of them ever did.” He chuckled and sat down and she climbed into the passenger seat. “Not to mention you neither shed or drool.”

Rey laughed as he started up the cart and drove them out of the garage. “Can you call my roommates up and tell them? They keep blaming me for all the hair in the shower drain, and I always make sure I clean it after I take a shower.”

He scoffed. “If it was clean when you left yesterday morning, they'll figure out it's not you while you're gone.” He swung the cart around “unless they throw a wild party, but even then, they should know.” He headed down the hill, opposite of the drive and stopped at the tall fence so he could open the gate and after driving through, closed it behind them. “Is the pizza good there?” He indicated her shirt.

She looked down and shrugged. “It's pretty decent.” She let out a slight grin. “You'd be amazed at how many restaurants want to give you things when they find out you work for a foodie magazine.” 

He chuckled as he headed slowly through the vineyard, the morning fog still thick in patches. The even thump of the sprinklers was carried towards them, and behind them, the horn of a ship out on the ocean echoed in the stillness. “I think I know this one. Is this something like be nice to that kid, because he or she could end up your boss one day?”

“Sounds about the same.” She smirked before looking back behind them, and then moved closer to him, looking a little uncertain in her seating and he slowed down so she could adjust. “Personally, I think New York City has enough people cheering on their establishments. I've had some of the things so-called experts say are the best, and they're not.” She made a disgusted noise. “Not to mention half the things they praise cost an arm and a leg, and are definitely not worth the chunk of change you'd spend.” 

He nodded. “I may not know much about food, but I know if you want decent barbeque, you will not find it in any state that doesn't consider itself the South, it's impossible to find good seafood inland, and everyone's entitled to think their pizza is superior to all others, and the rest of the country can go fry itself.” 

She laughed as they came to a fork in the road and they slowed down to drive over a hose. “I've never understood how the whole pizza war thing works. It's pizza. Let everyone enjoy it, except those weirdos who are putting peas and mayonnaise on it. You can't explain such a thing or make it anything but wrong.”

Ben gagged at the idea of putting either ingredient on a pizza, let alone at the together. “I don't even want to know who came up with the idea. It sounds revolting. I'd say such a combination gives a free pass to everyone who likes pineapple on their pizza.” 

“I think I know why people enjoy what they call Hawaiian pizza.” She grabbed the small bar on the front of the cart as he accelerated down the path. He wanted to get to the press before work officially started, so his employees would have minimal interruption. “Because when it's ten below zero and a foot of snow on the ground, a pineapple and ham pizza reminds you of summer, and it helps somehow.” She gave him an absent smile.

“Do you frequently get a foot of snow in New York?” He'd barely seen snow in his life; the last time he'd seen a significant amount was during a trip to Colorado with a friend in college. The gate leaving the vineyard was open and there was a small bump as they left dirt and went back onto blacktop.“The cold you don't have to confirm.”

“Not as often as you'd think.” She covered a sneeze,“excuse me.” She cleared her throat and straightened up.

“Bless you.” He answered and slowed down as they came up to the barn, parking the cart next to another one, a little ways back from the building itself. “Here we are.” “You don't have allergies, do you?”

She shook her head and came around to stand next to him, shouldering her bag, then looked back across the vineyard, shaking her head. “Lungs adjusting to fresh air, more than likely. Soon as I get used to it, I'll have to head back to New York.” She turned and looked up the barn. “This building did not look this big when Rose pointed it out yesterday.” She turned to him. “Although I should have suspected it was.” Rey looked slightly embarrassed, then seemed to compose herself. “You do all the bottling, storage and press here?”

He nodded. “Most of it. You can't really tell from this angle, but we're facing the part of the barn where the press and barrel aging are done. There's a building connected to this one on the other side where the bottling takes place. The bottles are then stored in a separate barn located close to the old barn – the clubhouse.” He ran a hand through his hair while she shouldered her backpack. “You remember to wear comfortable shoes?” 

She indicated her feet, and he looked down to see her laced sneakers. “These should be good for at least two hundred miles.”

He laughed as they walked up towards the access door in the side of the structure. “Not going quite that far, but I guarantee, you will walk off your all of breakfast and at least half of last night's dinner before we have lunch.” He held the door open for her. “And lunch will get walked off before dinner.”

*

Rey chuckled as she stepped inside the building, “sounds like I'll need to find something to do to burn off dinner.” She stopped short when she realized what she had said. “I mean...” 

“You can always go for a swim.” Ben answered, not missing a beat. “I know it's an old wives tale about swimming after eating, but don't try and tell Maz.” 

“True.” she took a deep breath and looked around her, and the rich scent of wood and something sweet, but not cloyingly so, hung in the air. Maybe the reason it smelled so wonderful was because it was natural, and not an attempt at the scent to which she couldn't quite give a name. “Where are we?” The lighting was low and it was still, they took a few steps forward and racks of barrels rose up on either side of them, going up at least nine feet.

“This is the aging room, the middle area of the barn.” He set his hand on the nearest barrel, and pointed to a mark on the side – it read RZ – 9/19/2016 LSRL. “This tells us what wine is inside, the date it went in, and the code for what it's designation is, RL stands for reserve label.” A shadow crossed his face. “This year will be the first time all the barrels filled won't have my uncle's initials, but mine.” He shook his head. “And yes, I know they're BS.”

She nodded and turned to look at the barrels on the other side, and the code on every single one was the same; PN – 9/10/2015 LSSL. “Pinot Noir, Standard Label?” She asked, and she saw him come stand next to her, running his fingers along the mark.

He nodded, “this will all be bottled up within the next two weeks and sent out before June.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All the wine made in twenty-fourteen we had left was sent out two days ago, and half of the bottled twenty-fifteens were as well.” He set his hand on the barrel. “As you can see, we needed the room.” 

She laughed and they started up the passageway, towards the middle of the room. “But the wine made this year won't be out to the public for another two, at least, right?” 

“Yes, however, if we made white wine, it wouldn't be the case.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have a yield of three tons per acre, and one ton will give you seven hundred bottles of wine. Which sounds like a lot, but believe me, if you think of how many bottles of wine a place like New York City goes through in a single day...”

“I know what you mean.” She already knew about tons to wine, but she hadn't asked him what the vineyard's yield was. Their feet echoed slightly on the wood floor and they came to a wide hallway, running from one side of the room to the other. She drew in a slight breath at the sheer number of rows of barrels around her. The number she'd seen on the sides were also printed on the front, and she felt her eyes widen. “Wow.”

“What?” Ben turned to her, looking surprised. “Let me guess, you didn't think there were barrels on both sides.” 

“Something along those lines, yes.” She let out a slight laugh. “This is incredible. And I guess there would have to be, since you ship wine all over the country.” Her first instinct was to grab the camera out of her bag and just start shooting, but at the same time, there was still so much to see, and instead, she pulled out her notebook and started scribbling down pictures to take later. “My first major assignment and I'm going all....”

“You're allowed to be excited.” He chuckled and they started up towards what she guessed was the front side of the barn. They passed two people in khaki shorts and dark purple polo shirts and nodded a hello as they moved past. “I'd say it shows enthusiasm for your work and is therefore, commendable.”

Rey had to fight back her laughter. “Sounds like something my roommate Poe would say.” 

He gave her a look and she had to redouble her efforts to hold back her mirth. “Given your extolling of the virtues of chef Poe Dameron at breakfast, I will take it as a compliment.”

She knew her face had gone pink. “I'm sorry,” she covered her face with her hand. “now I'm acting anything but professional, and we agreed to...” she fell silent as she felt his hand on her wrist, pulling her hand down. “What?”

“Miss Andor, Rey, I assure you, the rambling doesn't bother me in the slightest.” He smiled. “Rose does it too, from time to time. The difference is, you're talking about my line of work, which tells me you're actually interested, and not just here to earn a paycheck. That alone makes it infinitely more tolerable.” He pressed his lips against the top of her hand. “And, dare I say, enjoyable.” 

She pulled her hand back, hoping her blush hadn't spread to her ears. “Flirting is unprofessional, Mr. Solo.” She managed, “this isn't some Harlequin Romance.”

He smirked. “Of course it's not. For it to be a Harlequin, I'd need to be a widower with an adorable baby and you'd have to be either the new nanny or a wedding planner whose fiance dumped her for a supermodel a week before the wedding.” He took a breath. “And as for flirting, what exactly do you call your proposal last night?”

Rey knew she had gone from pink to red. “You went along with it.”

“So I did.” He lifted his chin. “If you want to flirt, be prepared to be flirted with.” His expression changed. “but if I've offended you, I apologize, and will stop doing so.”

She rubbed her temple, unable to give him the scathing look she'd like to. He had a point; it had been her idea to fall asleep on the couch, and he may have gone along with it – this was crazy. The only explanation she could think of was it had been too long for either of them since they were in a relationship and they were unconsciously venting their pent up intimate frustrations at each other. “I'm not offended, I'm just not familiar with it – and having it being reciprocated.”

“Mutual.” He straightened and she had the feeling he was holding something back. He cleared his throat and looked away from her, studying the barrels that towered over them. “I take you haven't been inside many vineyard buildings.”

The change of subject was a blessed relief and she shook her head. “No, but I've been in enough orchard packing barns I don't think I want to be in another.” She shrugged. “Standard grade school field trips in Yuba City.”

“I know about those.” He let out a soft chuckle as they came to a massive set of glass doors and, instead of pushing one of them aside, led her to a smaller door in the wall. “Temperature control.” He held the door open for her and they went into the neighboring room. “Not much going on in the presses right now. There won't be until the harvest. But come late August, early September, it'll be almost non-stop work.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to mention something about the anniversary events in that month, but odds were, such things were a constant on Ben's mind. Given their conversation, she had a feeling there were other things on his mind, and she bit at her bottom lip, almost relieved they'd soon go back outside. She needed some fresh air.

*

Leia tapped her fingers against the arm of the Adirondack chair, comfortably settled after her morning of therapy. It wouldn't be long before Ben and Rey returned to the house for lunch, and afterward, she'd be under the supervision of Maz, Baze and Chirrut. She glanced down at Loki, who was half dozing in the shade. She reached over and picked up her phone, then checked behind her, looking into the house. Maz wasn't standing near the door, watching her, she seemed to be focused on cooking lunch. Good. Smiling, she turned back around and unlocked the screen. “Siri, find Jyn Erso Andor, Architect, Sacramento, California.” 

“Let me find that for you.” The electronic voice chirped and before she'd completely sat back and adjusted herself in the seat, it was back. “Okay, here are several architects in Sacramento.” 

“Advanced computer system can't find the one I asked for.” She muttered and scrolled through the list, and found the woman in question as third on the list, after a Jennifer Andros and Glenn Earlshaw. “Siri, call Jacobs Architecture, Sacramento.” The damn thing might call some place in Australia.

“Calling Jacobs Architecture.” the voice replied and Leia checked on Maz again while she waited, the woman was still occupied. There was a click and she straightened as she heard someone pick up the phone.

“Jacobs and Associates Architecture, how may I direct your call?” A sunny sounding voice stated, and she smiled.

“Yes, my name is Leia Skywalker-Solo, I'd like to speak with Jyn Erso Andor, please.” She checked her watch. “I didn't catch her at lunch, did I?”

“I don't believe so, ma'am.” There was a shuffling noise. “One moment while I redirect you to her extension. Have a great day.” The young man answered.

“You too, and thank you.” A moment later, the same terrible hold music she'd heard dozen of times started up. Someone was paid to create this tripe. If it was actually decent, people might not mind how long they spent on hold. At least no one was singing. “You're over-thinking, Leia. You need a hobby.” She muttered and then there was another click.

“Jyn Andor.” A woman's voice answered, the cheerful tone sounded forced.

“Good morning, Mrs. Andor, This is Leia Skywalker-Solo, I'm not...” 

“I know who you are, Mrs Solo, my daughter is up at your vineyard this week.” A pause. “Is something wrong?” 

She shook her head, even though the woman couldn't see her. “Please, call me Leia. And it depends on your definition of wrong. You see, if someone wants to pull a prank on me, they should be prepared to be pranked in return.” 

There was a moment of silence and then, “what exactly are you talking about Leia? and feel free to call me Jyn.” 

Leia shot a glance at her dog and then back out across the vineyard, grinning. “Are you and your husband free to join us for dinner at our house Friday night, Jyn? And willing to not let Rey know you're coming?”


	6. Chapter 6

Rey laid her lavender paisley sundress over the foot of the bed, along with a clean pair of panties and a bra, then tugged the scrunchie out of her hair. She didn't even want to know how many miles she had walked today, but given the way her legs were aching, it had to be close to a dozen. When she had driven it, she hadn't noticed the incline of the land, but after walking it, it suddenly made perfect sense how most people around here seemed to be in decent physical shape. There was nothing she hadn't seen today, from the vineyard itself to the buildings, and somehow, she and Ben managed to keep things completely professional.

She felt like a complete and total idiot for being so attracted to him; he was everything she shouldn't want and at the same time, everything she should be looking for.

She tugged off her shirt, shorts, and socks then walked into the bathroom, eager for a shower. Dinner wasn't for another hour and a half, and she was still debating on whether or not to dry her hair for the meal. It didn't matter, did it? She removed the rest of her clothes and stepped into the spray, groaning as the hot water hit her aching muscles. Shutting her eyes and rubbing her face, she could again see Mrs. Solo's expression at lunch.

She may not have known the woman long, but Rey knew the look of a cat who ate the canary when she saw one. Either Mrs. Solo was plotting, or she had had a particularly interesting physical therapy session. She and Ben had not gotten back to the house in time to see the man leave before lunch, and it really wasn't important in the scheme of things – unless the young man, whom Ben said was named David, was the recipient and the cause of the woman's look.

Since she had been turned over to Rose for the afternoon, she and Ben hadn't had any conversation over the expression.

“I'm reading too much into this.” She mumbled, opening her eyes and grabbing her mesh sponge and the shower gel, and started up a nice lather. “You're here to work, Andor, not get involved in some weird soap opera or Harlequin.” She shook her head, laughing as she remembered what Ben had said in regards of her particular statement earlier. “I think I'd rather be the wedding planner than the nanny.” She ran the sponge down her arms. “Why does he have to be so damn cute?” 

She couldn't talk to Finn or Poe about this. They'd want a picture to confirm her statement and, in their typical fashion, would insist she go for him, professionalism be damned.

Easy for them to say, they were in a loving, committed relationship and she was too busy for anything, even a one night stand. She didn't like the idea of a one-night stand either. She wasn't a prude by any means, she liked to think of it as having standards. She was worth more than a few drinks and some dancing before falling naked into a bed, if you were lucky, and fucking each other's brains out. Parting after a cup of coffee the next morning, never to see each other again.

Good way to catch something, if you asked her.

She hung up the sponge and picked up her bottle of shampoo. “You've seen how picky I am with shoes and they only go on my feet.” She grinned, remembering Cher's line from Clueless. Of course, Cher chose to sleep with her ex-stepbrother, which was kind of gross. True, they weren't related by blood, but they'd been _sort-of_ related.

Turning her attention to her hair, she tried to think of what she could bring up to talk about at dinner, something safe. Trouble was, every subject crossing her mind turned negative a moment later. Sports and politics were lethal, and weather – well, it wasn't going to be small talk time. “You're acting like this is a first date, or something, Andor.” She rinsed her hair and then worked the conditioner in. “Food.” She smiled. “Something we all can talk a great deal about. Maybe it will be enough to keep me from staring at Ben.” 

She took up her sponge again. “You're being stupid, Andor.” She admonished. “You're going to finish this week and then go back to New York, odds are, you'll never see him again.” Like she'd be sent to the anniversary party in September. The event was black tie and there was no way in hell Hux would send her. He'd go himself. The magazine had to be on the list of invitees, because it was how things were done. It'd be a press table of _Food and Wine, California Living, Vineyards and Gardens_ , and a few newspapers from Sacramento and San Francisco. 

Rose was supposed to give her a list of people who'd agreed to have candid shots taken of them tomorrow morning, and Rey was determined to get her photography done tomorrow morning, weather permitting. “Note to self, check the forecast.” She tilted her head back to rinse off, running her fingers through her hair. 

Maz had told her tonight's dinner was chicken cordon bleu and roasted vegetables. 

“I wonder if she ever tells the caterers what to do at weddings.” She turned off the water and wrapped a towel around her middle before padding slowly out of the bath and into the bedroom. “What am I saying, they probably all know her by name and know her standards for events here at the vineyard.” 

*

Ben finished setting the table, rather disappointed he hadn't been able to convince Maz to eat dinner with them tonight. She didn't do it often, and meals had always seemed more comfortable when she'd been present. However, tonight was the season premiere of the latest _Master Chef_ , which she never missed. The only reason Maz had never tried out for the show herself was the fact she didn't want to subject Gordon Ramsay to the talking-to she felt he needed. 

Quite honestly, the idea of the man walking into the studio kitchen and facing a room full of grandmother-aged cooks would be delightful. 

He set the wine glasses around before returning to the kitchen. “I take it you don't trust me to finish up in here.” 

Maz looked up from the stove. “You're damn right.” She smiled. “Brilliant as you are in the kitchen, I've got my timing down to an art.” 

“I'd get mine too, if you let me help more.” He flicked the light in the oven on before looking inside; he knew better than to open the door to check the contents. “You made ginger-rum cake.”

“There's not enough rum in the recipe to affect anyone.” the woman covered the skillet. “And since I forwent the rum sauce in favor of ice cream, it'll be fine.” She took off her glasses, wiping the steam off with her shirt-tail before putting them back on. “What's your mother up to?”

He frowned, then leaned down to look into the bottom oven, where the chicken was being kept warm. “What do you mean?”

“You saw her expression at lunch. She's up to something.” the woman sighed. “I wouldn't be surprised if she's trying to set you and Miss Andor up.” 

Ben groaned and covered his eyes. “She's here for work, Maz.” He should have asked Rose to stay for dinner, so her mother could nose around in her life, rather than his. “It'd be unprofessional.”

“Don't think I don't know what happened on the couch last night.” She snorted. “A fine prank, and it was far from appropriate. And don't go trying to blame the wine!”

He sighed and came over to the stove. “It wasn't my suggestion.” He rested his elbows on the counter, not looking at her. “And are you going to lecture me on being an adult and how I shouldn't have gone along with it?”

“No.” Maz sighed, causing him to look up, her face worn with concern. “You're too young to act like an old man. I worry about you, Benjamin.”

“It's been a rough year.” He replied, looking back down at his hands. “It's a bad idea all around. She's here to work, and she'll be back in New York this time next week.”

“Rubbish. You kids these days. Talk about long distance relationships being impossible as if the internet suddenly vanished.”

“Maz.” He sighed. “There's nothing going on with me and Rey – Miss Andor.” 

“Yet.” She offered, and he saw her smile. “Why don't you two have a talk after dinner, once your mother's gone upstairs. Keep things professional, as you say. But if all you two are going to do is repress emotions, she might as well have stayed with her parents over in Yuba City.” 

“Not with the drive and current gas prices.” He retorted, straightening up, knowing the woman was right. “At the same time, I only met her yesterday. I'm not a sappy romance person.”

“You're attracted to her. I can tell she's attracted to you. Either talk it out, or you two are going to drive each other insane.” She retorted, taking the lid off the frying pan and moving the contents within with a wooden spoon. “Go finish setting the table, hot-pads, butter dish, you know the drill.” 

“Yes, ma'am.” He straightened up and went over to the fridge, taking out a few things. “Are you sure you don't want to join us?”

“No.” She waved her hand dismissively. “You know I have plans.”

“I do.” He shut the door with his hip. “Don't worry, I know how to wash the dishes.” 

“Bah!” She shook the spoon in his direction. “I never worry about you failing in cleanup. Seems it's one of the things you do best.”

“I try.” Ben took a breath. “Trouble is keeping Rey in her seat to keep her from helping me. She's a guest.” 

“Miss Andor seems to be far more stubborn than any other guest we've hosted here, and twice as polite as most of them as well.” She sighed. “And your mother likes her. Already a plus.” 

He could barely keep his temper in check. “And if this all comes to nothing, are you going to blame it on me not doing something?” He stalked out of the kitchen, his cheeks flaming. This was exactly why he hated to be in a relationship. Everyone seemed to offer him advice, and then, when he did anything even remotely close to their advice and it blew up on him, they always wanted to know what _he'd_ done wrong. 

Last time he checked, he'd been the one to find his college girlfriend, Alicia, in bed with another guy. 

“Hey.” Maz's hand was on his back. “We're worried about you Ben, that's all.” 

“Why? Because barely past legal drinking age Rose practically has a finance and I'm over thirty and don't have any prospects in sight?” He snapped, instantly regretting it. “I mean...”

“This year hasn't been easy for any of us.” She shook her head. “Unfortunately, you have been the one to bear most of the burden, and since your mother isn't ready to take back any responsibilities on the vineyard, you're all she has left to work on.” 

He snorted. “At least she's not demanding grandchildren.”

“See, you found a bright side in less than a minute.” She squeezed his hand. “I shouldn't be pushing you into anything you don't want to, and neither should your mother.”

He shook his head. “And if I didn't think of Rose as a little sister, both sets of parents would have pushed us together some time ago. Not that it would have ever worked.” He adjusted the salt shaker. “And don't even _think_ of suggesting to her she should set me up with one of her friends.” 

“Wouldn't dream of it, Benjamin.” Maz replied, going back into the kitchen.

*

Leia had informed Maz of Rey's parents coming to dinner on Friday, and she knew the woman could keep a secret better than anyone. Since the planned menu for the meal in question had been chosen weeks ago: meatloaf and mashed potatoes, it was easy to adjust it for two more guests. Given what Miss Andor was planning on doing for work on Friday and Ben had things to do as well, neither of them would be any the wiser to the change in the amount of food being prepared until they came to the dinner table.

Jyn had been amused when Leia informed her what happened last night and this morning, and said it wasn't the first time her daughter had done something so bold, but it was the first time she'd done it with someone whom she had only met recently.

“Keep my eye on her.” She muttered, taking a drink of juice from her wine glass, glancing down at Loki, who had been somewhat fidgety all afternoon. “We should walk more.” She straightened up as Ben came into the dining room, setting the casserole dish down in the center, and she smiled. “Maz has done it again.” She heard the sliding door open in the other room. 

“Something smells incredible.” Rey called and a moment later, she came to the doorway. “I'm not late, am I?”

“Nope.” Ben answered and went back into the kitchen.

“Have a seat.” Leia gestured to the chair on her right. “I took a nap this afternoon, so it'll be easier to be on my best behavior.”

“And by best, she'll remain rated pg.” Ben intoned, coming back with a serving dish, which he set on the remaining hot-pad. He gave her a wan smile. “Yes, I remembered to let the wine breathe, mother.” 

“Smart-ass.” She mumbled, eying the two glasses of pinot noir with envy. There would be a hint of rum in dessert, and it almost made up for it. “Sit down young man, so we can eat.” 

“Yes, ma'am.” He grinned as he took his seat, glancing down at Loki, who was half-asleep. “At least you don't beg.” 

Leia shook her head as they served themselves dinner, and for a few minutes, there was no noise save for the soft clinks of silverware on plates, and sliced open her serving of chicken, her focus on her food. “I remember you telling Rose one of your roommates is a techie on Broadway, Rey. What show does he work for?”

“ _Phantom_.” She replied, clearing her throat. “He operates the boat and moves a lot of dummies, as he puts it.” she took a drink from her glass. “He always says for a show that's been running for as long as it has, you'd think they'd be consistent with the amount of dry ice they go through in a performance by now.” 

“I think fog machines have probably been upgraded a few times since eighty-six.” Ben offered, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork. “And if the one on stage right somehow manages to burn through the dry ice faster than one on stage left, despite being the exact same model of machine and set on the same thing...”

“Tell me about it.” Rey shook her head, “it's like comparing ramen noodle brands.” 

“I'm certain you could write an in-depth article on it, until Poe caught you eating them.” Ben replied.

Leia ran a chunk of potato through the cheese sauce seeping out of her chicken. “I've never seen the Broadway production of _Phantom._ Only the ones in Los Angeles and Sacramento.” She paused. “Hugh Panero has such a pretty voice. He could sing me the theme songs of every cartoon of mine and Ben's childhoods and I'd be entranced.”

“Moth-er.” Ben groaned. “Don't start.” He rolled his eyes.

“I'm being serious.” She lifted her chin. “Anyway, what sort of restaurant does your friend Poe work at?” This was a perfectly safe subject. It'd keep her from asking other things she shouldn't. 

“I suppose you'd call it American, since it's a steakhouse.” She looked down at her plate. “He says he never had the right amount of calm for French style, and his grandmother would be broken-hearted if he went for Italian.” She paused. “And he told me that a gay man being a pastry chef is practically a cliché. He also says at least in his current job, he gets to use fire, which makes up for lack of being able to use a proper smoker.” 

“New York has no business trying to make itself a name in barbeque.” Leia sniffed. “Let the south have the honor.” 

Rey rubbed her temple, taking up her wine glass. “I think food is one of the last things people have to be total snobs about. Nothing can roust up a fight quicker than nine people working an all nighter trying to order pizza together.” She took a drink.

“Is that similar to someone who asks 'who wants to play Monopoly' at a party?” Ben chuckled. “Because it sounds like it.” 

The young woman set her napkin against her mouth and nearly choked on her wine as Leia started to laugh.

*

Rey still insisted on helping with the dishes. It was too ingrained in her; if you didn't help cook, you helped with the cleanup after the meal. She glanced over at Ben, who was finishing up loading the dishwasher, and then back at the wine glass she was drying. “What do you usually do after dinner?” 

“Depends.” He added detergent to the machine then shut the door, then turned it on. “If I got all my work done or not.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Most everything is caught up at the moment, thankfully.” 

She set the glass down and picked up the cutting board from the drying rack. “I think I still have a touch of jet-lag. I know it's only a quarter after eight, but my brain thinks it's after eleven.” 

“Makes sense.” He came over and started to put away the things she had dried. “I don't think it'd be a good idea for the two of us staying up and finishing off another bottle of wine. Maz would have my neck.” 

“Agreed, one glass a day is enough.” She shook her head. “How I managed to avoid a hangover, I don't know.” She set the board where she'd seen it last night. “I can't go too bed soon, because I'll get used to it, and I'll have to adjust all over again when I get back to New York.” 

“You want some coffee?” He set the last of the knives in place.

“No, thank you.” She rubbed her temple, “I think I'll be good. I don't watch _Master Chef_... actually, we don't have any television service in our apartment. No one has time to watch it. We mainly use it as an output device for the DVD player.” 

Ben chuckled. “Most of the things on television are garbage or a rehash anyway.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You don't want to go swimming, do you?”

“Tempting, but I think I've gotten enough exercise for one day.” She blushed, looking away from him. “I mean...”

“I know what you mean.” He reached over and squeezed her fingers. “You want to talk outside? The patio furniture isn't comfortable enough to fall asleep in, unless you're completely exhausted.” 

She nodded, and the two of them went back through the house to the pool deck, her mind racing. What were the two of them going to talk about? She had written over twenty pages of notes today, and really... she shook her head to clear it and sat down in one of the chairs, closing her eyes and inhaling the wonderful scent of salt air. “I miss this part of California. There's not a candle in all of the East Coast that can produce this kind of a smell.” 

“Not without being obviously fake.” Ben added, and he grunted slightly when he sat down.

“You all right?” she opened her eyes, glancing over at him.

“Feeling old, strange as it sounds.” He leaned forward, looking at his hands instead of her. “I'm not good with small talk.” 

“Neither am I.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I don't even know what I'm doing half the time. I... I think I may have trouble not flirting with you – because honestly, you're the first single guy I've been around in months who hasn't spent half the night blubbering about their ex-girlfriend.” 

He chuckled. “I don't have the time to date and I refuse to let Rose set me up with any of her friends. Because a breakup there could end up affecting the way things are here at the vineyard.” He cleared his throat. “I know, saying something like that sounds terrible, but...”

“It's true.” she interjected. “I don't let Poe and Finn set me up either, even though they insist they know plenty of nice guys and it won't be the end if we break up, but at the same time – it's too much pressure.” She rubbed her eyes. “And then there's the whole having time thing.” 

“Given the choice between an extra four hours of sleep or a date, I think I'll take the sleep.” He sighed. “I know they told us don't set too much in store in high school relationships, but I'm starting to think the people who find love during that time knew something the rest of us didn't and somehow managed to make it work.” 

“It's annoying as shit.” She huffed, then looked back over at him. “I am supposed to keep this professional, which makes it harder than it should be.” 

“I don't think you need to tell your boss about anything personal going on in your life.” He chuckled. “He definitely doesn't need to know about our escapade on the couch.” He made a face. “Unless the whole marriage thing actually happens and he finds out after the fact at the wedding reception.”

Rey gaped at him. “I am not going to invite Armitage Hux to my wedding, if I ever have one!”

“If you're still working for him when you get married, you better. Or update your resume.” He shrugged. “Besides, who else is going to give you the luggage set you register for?”

She laughed. “I still don't want to see him at my wedding.” 

“He only finds out about our night on the couch if we're the ones getting married.” He smiled. “And odds are, should the need arise, I can guarantee I can arrange it so he thinks my mother is lying. ” 

“You're awful.” She went pink, then reached down and pulled off her sandals. “I think I changed my mind about the swim.” She set the shoes aside, then took off her watch, setting it down next to her phone on the little table between them. “Your mom's bedroom windows don't look down into the pool, do they?”

“No, they look over the front of...” He stilled. “You're not suggesting we go skinny dipping, are you?”

She shook her head as she removed the rest of her jewelery, setting it next to her phone before standing and unzipping her dress. “No, just in our underwear, unless you have an objection.” This was going beyond the couch incident. She was far more sober tonight. “Or would you'd rather we swim naked?”

Ben stood up and started to unbutton his shirt. “You're crazy, Reyes Andor, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Not recently.” She slid the dress off her shoulders and placed it on the chair before walking over to the pool and setting her foot into the water, testing it. It was slightly cold, and she ran a hand through her hair before she jumped in, the rush of cold both jarring and relaxing. She surfaced in time to watch as Ben shucked his pants and came over to the pool in his boxers. “Feels great in here.” 

“Sure it does, for now, wait until you have to get out.” He pushed himself in with his arms, hissing. “Damn.” 

“It's not too cold, it still has some of today's warmth in it.” She splashed water towards him before swimming backwards. “Come on.”

“You want to play games?” He ducked his head and threw his hair back out of his face. “I already know you're out of practice.” He surged forward and she gave off a slight yelp before turning and started swimming for the far side of the pool.

She let out a squawk as she felt a hand close around her ankle and tug her underwater. When she surfaced, she pushed her hair back, glowering at him. “Meanie.”

“Oh, am I?” Ben hit the surface of the water, splashing her again. “Do you want me to play fair?”

“No.” She pouted at him, then saw his expression change. “What?”

He cleared his throat and pointedly looked away from her. “I think you know what?”

She frowned and looked down, and realized the water had made her cotton bra all but transparent, giving him a rather perfect view of her breasts, her nipples stiff against the fabric. She lifted her chin, feeling emboldened as she put her hand on her hip, “Something about my girly parts embarrass you?”

“No.” He still wouldn't look in her direction. “I'm being polite by not ogling you. I haven't been invited.” 

She covered her mouth as she began to giggle. “You're trying to be a gentleman!” She pushed herself through the water, closer to him, and stood, resisting the urge to reach back and unhook the garment. “I don't mind if you want to look at my girly parts. As long as you remember there's a face attached to them, I'll not object.” 

He slowly turned and looked down at her, his hands hovering on the surface of the water. “Not difficult there, Miss Andor.” He smiled. “Or are you using your feminine charms as a diversionary tactic?”

“Maybe.” She moved her hand so she splashed him, grinning as he shook the water from his face, then turned and started to swim away from him, towards the deeper end of the pool. She heard him moving behind her, but didn't stop to look until she reached the side, turning around as he reached her, his arms coming out to hold the edge, keeping her between the wall and him, unless she ducked under the water. “What...” She was cut off as he brushed his lips against hers and then backed up, treading water. “You're a kiss thief!”

“If you can catch me, you can steal one too.” He grinned and turned, swimming away, and she felt given his size, it was an unfair contest. 

“Maybe I should play hard to get.” She huffed, then pushed herself off, going after him, only to stop short when rounded on her and kissed her again. Her competitive nature and her pent up emotions surged through her as she lunged at him, pushing them both underwater. The acrid scent of chlorine raked through her as they sank, the distant lights from the house offering almost no illumination. 

Shock got the better of her and she pushed outward blindly, desperate for both air and vision. She felt something grab hold of her upper arm, pulling her upwards as she thrashed, her foot coming into contact with the concrete bottom of the pool before she surfaced, spluttering, the warm night air barely registering as the world slowly began to right itself. 

“Are you all right?” Ben rubbed his eyes and coughed. 

She pushed her hair out of her face, stretching her feet out under her on the pool floor. It helped steady her. “Yeah. You?”

“You're stronger than you look, Miss Andor.” He shook his head and took her elbow, guiding both of them over to the side of the pool to catch their breath. “I think it's the dark that made it worse.” 

“Yeah.” She rested her head on the concrete, closing her eyes. Behind her, she could hear Ben coughing a few more times, before his hand settled between her shoulder-blades, massaging the area gently. “I'm always there for a back rub.” 

“You're lucky the water wasn't too deep and you didn't push me hard enough to have our heads make contact with the bottom of the pool.” his hand was trembling as it slid across her shoulders, and stopped on her bra strap. “No more night swimming, not in our underwear, at least.”

Rey took several deep breaths, before opening her eyes, her bottom lip trembling as she turned her head to face him. “Ben...” she studied his face for a moment; in the twilight, his eyes almost looked completely black. “Would you like to come upstairs?”

He studied her for a moment, his hand still lingering on her shoulder. “I would love to, ” he swallowed. “and at the same time, you and I both know it wouldn't be a good idea.” 

She glanced at his mouth, the unbidden thought of feeling his lips against her skin making her flush, despite the cool water. She returned his gaze. “Either we get this out of our system, or we spend the rest of this week driving each other mad.” She swallowed. “you don't have to stay all night, I...” She felt his hand on her back. “Please.”

“Miss Andor.” He pulled her into a hug, and she felt like crying. “If I come upstairs with you, the rest of this week is going to be rather awkward.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “More than it already has.” His hand slid down her back, going under the surface of the water and came to rest on her rear. 

She lifted her head, looking up at him. “I don't want to give off the wrong idea... I'm not one for casual sex.” She bit at her bottom lip, glancing away towards their discarded clothes, then back at him. “I'm stressed, you're stressed – this might be good for us.”

He chuckled, “I'm going to suggest that you have one of your roommates read over your article before you turn it in, if they don't already.” He pulled away from her and pushed himself up out of the water and onto the patio. “I'll bring you a towel.” He headed over to where their clothes were lying.

“It wasn't a no.” She muttered as she lifted herself out of the water as Ben came back with a thick blue and white striped towel, a second one was wrapped around his waist. “Thank you.” She stood and drew the cloth around her, and the bravado she had felt in the water slowly ebbing away; and she felt her cheeks go pink as he walked away and picked up his phone, hitting a few buttons on it before turning back to her. “Texting?” She came over to him, picking up her discarded dress.

“No, I'm setting my alarm.” His eyes slowly met hers. “Does it count as staying all night if I leave shortly after five in the morning?”

She felt her whole face go pink. “Are you going to wake me up before you do?”

He gathered up his own clothes, smiling. “If you want.” 

“Ask me again before we go to sleep.” She picked up the rest of her things and the two of them crossed the pool deck and went into the guest house, certain he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. As he closed the door behind them, she dropped her shoes to the side, and his joined them. “You mind if I dry my hair a little, before...” She swallowed, “we uh...” 

He took her face his hands and pressed his lips to hers, his tongue brushing against the seam of her mouth. “No.” He stepped back. “Leave the towel with me, I'll toss them both in the dryer with my boxers before I come upstairs.” 

“Right.” She unwound the towel from her middle and handed it to him before she all but ran up the stairs and into the room she was using, leaving the door open in her wake. Going into the bathroom, she grabbed a towel and worked it over her hair, trying not to think about Ben already being naked when he came up after her. “Calm, stay calm.” She muttered, wrapping her hair in the towel before taking a cleaning cloth to her face. 

“Rey?” Ben's voice nearly made her jump and she turned to see him standing in the door of the bath, holding his clothes in front of his groin. “Did you already know there were condoms in the bedside table?”

She shook her head. “I'm on the pill, and I'm clean.” She wasn't certain if she was offended by his question or not. “What about you?”

“You think I'd have come up here if I wasn't, or if I didn't know about the condoms?” His expression darkened, and she had trouble holding his gaze. “It's been a while, hasn't it?” He smirked, “eyes on the mirror, not me, sweeting.” 

Rey shivered as she turned back to face herself in the mirror, resolved not to look away from her own face as she heard the thump of his clothing hitting the floor and barely registered him crossing to stand behind her. “With someone else?” She lifted her chin as his hands came up and gently removed the towel from her hair, setting it on the vanity. “Year and a half.” 

“Goodness.” His hand slid down her spine, his breath hot against her ear. “It's been a while then, hasn't it?” his fingers combed through her hair.

She closed her eyes, loving the feel of his hands working the tangles out. “Uh huh. You?”

“Three years.” His tongue traced the shell of her ear, “what do you want, Miss Andor? How do you want this?” 

She swallowed as his fingers moved from her hair, down her back and stopped on the closure of her bra. “I think gentle wooing is already out of the question.” She let out a light chuckle. “We're too pent up for such...” 

“Gentleness has a time and a place.” He unhooked her bra and she opened her eyes to watch the two of them in the mirror as he slid the garment off her shoulders. “Maybe we'll end with it.” 

“End?” She could feel her body trembling as one hand slid down and under the waistband of her panties, pulling her flush against him, his cock pressed against her rear, hard and searing hot against her cool skin, the other coming up to cup her breast, his thumb flicking at her nipple.

“It's a quarter to nine, Sweetheart.” He nuzzled her neck, and she reached up to sink her fingers into his hair. “Nowhere near time to sleep, plenty of time to fuck.”


End file.
